Diamond in the Rough
by Slovenskych
Summary: "Some monsters can be tamed. But Russia isn't that kind of monster. If you get too close, he'll kill you." Estonia's hate for his master is put to the test when Latvia appears to be in danger. Is this another torture session, or something else altogether? NOT A RUSLAT FIC. Contains alcohol abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a follow-up to my Oneshot Peaceful Darkness, as requested by a reviewer. They are seperate stories dealing with a similar topic. This story uses first names, so for those of you who don't know:**

**Eduard - Estonia**

**Raivis - Latvia**

**Toris - Lithuania**

**Translations at the bottom. Thank you for reading, and please review! :)**

CRASH!

Eduard's head shot up at the sound of shattering glass coming from upstairs. He felt his stomach do a summersault. _Oh, no._ Breaking glass in this madhouse meant one of several things could be happening: Either Toris or Raivis had dropped something and Russia was on his way to punish them, Russia was _already_ punishing them by throwing things, or Prussia had gotten loose and was breaking anything and everything within reach. Judging that there had only been one crash and not dozens, Eduard ruled out the last possibility. That meant that one of his brothers was in big trouble.

"Sitt," He cursed under his breath, before throwing down the papers he had been sorting and sprinting out of the room. His footsteps echoed in the narrow stairwell, his breath coming in short gasps as he raced to the rescue. Eduard paused before emerging on ground-level, keeping a sharp eye out for any sign of Russia. If his master was on a rant, he certainly didn't want to get in the way.

Facing him was the entrance to a sitting room. The only sound was the solemn ticking of a grandfather clock and the occasional crackle of the fire. Through one of the draped windows, he could see lazy snowflakes drifting earthward. Eduard's eyes darted around the room, straining his ears for any commotion that was sure to ensue any moment now…

All was still.

_Too still._He thought, his lips pressing into a frown. Cautiously he stepped out into the living room, expecting Russia to leap out from behind a couch, that sickening smile of sadistic cruelty etched onto his disgusting face.

_Estonia…I do not appreciate you speaking to me like that, da?_

Eduard shuddered as the words from his master slithered into his mind. He left the room in a brisk walk, searching for the source of the crash. He held his breath every turn, unable to get that itchy feeling of anxiety to leave his skin.

_You may try to run, but Mother Russia will always find you._

_Jää vait!_ He yelled inside his head, walking faster. Was that a scraping sound he heard?

_You know that language is forbidden here, Estonia. For that I will have to punish you..._

A chill ran down his spine at the clarity of the voice. He rounded the corner into the dining room, fully expecting the Russian to be waiting for him with pipe in hand. Eduard braced himself for the blow, for the fresh tang of blood on his lips and the crunch of metal on bone…

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he was met with a pair of violet eyes, a long metal rod gripped in hand. It took a moment for him to register the scrawny build, moppy hair, and maroon uniform.

"Raivis?"

The Latvian looked up at Eduard with bleary eyes. Eduard felt his whole body relax in relief. Thank God! With further observation, he noticed that the metal rod in Raivis's hands wasn't a pipe at all – it was a broom. A pile of shattered glass lay at the Latvian's feet. It appeared as though he had dropped several plates on his way to the china cabinet. Eduard allowed himself to fully relax, letting out a long sigh.

"God, Raivis, you nearly gave me a heart attack! I heard the glass shatter and I thought – " He stopped midsentence when he realized Raivis wasn't really listening. In fact, the boy was acting rather odd, the way he leaned on the broom and tripped over his own feet as he struggled to sweep the shards into a pile. His hair was a tangled mess. Beneath his eyes were two dark circles, giving his thin face a haunted look. His eyes seemed to shift around aimlessly, not able to focus on anything.

"Raivis…are you okay?"

Raivis winced, but still didn't look up. "M fine," He mumbled, his words slurred together. Eduard frowned.

"Are you sure? You can barely stand up – "

"I SAID 'M FINE!" Raivis exploded, shooting Eduard an irritated glare before his eyes shifted out of focus. He leaned a bit too much on the broom and began to fall forward, before Eduard grabbed him by the neck of his uniform and pulled him up. He brought the limp Latvian to his face, and was overwhelmed with a smell that was all too familiar…

"You've been drinking."

"Nyeh!"Riavis fervently shook his head, blurting out a cross between Latvian and Russian. Eduard wrinkled his nose in disgust, his eyes filling with disappointment.

"How_ could_ you? After all you've seen, you should know what horrible things alcohol does to people!"

For a moment Raivis seemed to have not heard, his dreary eyes looking right past Eduard as if he wasn't even there.

"YOU DON' UNDERSTAND! LEAME ALONE!"

With a violent shove he pushed Eduard away, turning and stumbling out of the room. Moments later the house shuddered with the slam of a bathroom door.

Eduard stood alone in the dining room, his heart wrenching with emotion. He felt betrayed – how could _Raivis_ – whom he and Toris had tried so hard to protect – fall into the clutches of alcohol? It seemed too harsh of a reality to believe. Russia had taken so many things away from them, and now Latvia's innocence was even more tarnished than it already was. What more did the boy have left? What more could possibly go wrong for him? Eduard clenched his fists, feeling the anger inside of him rise to a dangerous boil. Raivis… his little brother… _drinking?_He would rather get beaten by Russia then have to watch his little brother fall victim to alcohol.

Not even caring of the consequences, Eduard picked up the broom and swung it as hard as he could into the doorway. The handle splintered in half, the end flying across the room and skidding under the dining table. Eduard's hands up came to grip his hair.

_Ei, not Raivis, anyone but Raivis…_

Desperate to be alone, he strode back through the house to their room. On the way he passed a bathroom, where he could hear the moans of nausea and splashing of toilet water as Raivis suffered from his hangover. As he reached the bedroom and closed the door behind him, a single tear ran down Eduard's cheek.

_Why…why him…_

It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, there was nothing he could do to save his little brother from the horrific influence of their master.

**Jää vait! - Shut up!**


	2. Chapter 2

Eduard rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, his mouth gaping in a yawn. He slumped against the doorway, his eyes half-lidded as he pushed it open. There was a gasp of terror; a flash of movement caught his eye as Toris hastily hid something behind his back.

"It's just me, Toris."

The Lithuanian's body relaxed and he pulled a folded piece of paper out from behind him. He sat cross-legged on the bed, his brunette hair curtaining his face and his fingers gripping the parchment as if it were a lifeline. Eduard felt the uneasiness he always did when Toris read letters from Poland. If Russia were to catch him… he shuddered at the thought.

Throwing a quick glance around the room, Eduard noticed that Raivis had not yet returned from his late night chores. He didn't want to interrupt Toris, but this was a rare opportunity to share what he had discovered about their little brother.

"Toris. I need to speak with you about something."

The Lithuanian's weary olive eyes rose up to meet his. He seemed to have sensed the urgengy in Eduard's voice."What is it, Eduard?"

Looking into those exhausted eyes, suddenly Eduard didn't want to tell him. As the oldest, Lithuania held himself responsible for everything they went through. He was already taking most of the physical abuse from Russia. Somehow Eduard felt it was wrong to worry him with this new issue…But wouldn't it be even more wrong to keep him from the truth?

"This morning I met with Raivis, and…" He rubbed the back of his head, hating what came next. "And he had a… a hangover."

In a matter of seconds, Toris's face had turned ghostly white. His eyes were wide with terror, and Eduard could almost see the reflections of a drunk Russia stumbling around in his brother's memory.

"_What?"_ The syllable breathed by Toris was unbelieving and desperate for it not to be true. Eduard could only lower his eyes to the floor, a pit of failure eating at his gut.

"He must've found a stray bottle somewhere. I don't think Russia would give up any of his precious vodka, not to anyone."

There was no reply, and Eduard sneaked a glance at Toris to see that he was stunned into silence. At last he swallowed heavily, his olive eyes still staring into space.

"No, not Raivis…he – he _couldn't - _"

Just then the door creaked open.

"Eduard?"

Eduard turned around to see a scrawny form draped with old pajamas, topped with a mop of honey-gold hair. Raivis's eyes were fixed firmly on the floor, his thin hand clenched nervously on the door handle.

"A-about what said earlier…I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

Eduard placed a hand on Raivis's shoulder. At last the boy made eye-contact, and his eyes were filled with fear.

"I know you didn't mean it. You weren't well."

Suddenly the Latvian's huge amethystsspilled over with tears."Please, Eduard, you have to help me…I don't know what else to do…"

Eduard frowned. "What do you mean?"

This only brought more tears to his brother's eyes.

"I – I'm hurting a lot because of the food shortages, and – and I can hear them s- screaming – " His shoulders began to shake with sobs, and Eduard reached behind him to close the door. Raivis continued, "A-and Russia is so scary, it's impossible to tell when he will snap…Sometimes I think I hear him breathing behind me and I s-start sh-shaking. It's too much pressure, it's too much pain, I- I just can't take it anymore!"

Eduard pulled his brother close in an embrace, Toris rushing over to join. Through his shirt he could feel the tears roll down Raivis's cheeks as he sobbed.

"I – I feel like – vodka… is the only thing…that will save me…"

Eduard felt the blood drain from his face. He snapped up his head to look at Toris, who had turned white as a sheet.

"Raivis…please say you are not telling the truth…" Toris whispered.

Raivis unwound himself from Eduard to look up at his oldest brother with blood-shot eyes. His voice came out barely a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Toris."

Toris's eyes widened in terror."Ne, Raivis, alcohol does horrible things to people! Please for the love of God, you have to find another outlet!"

"What other outlet?" Raivis yelled, surprising them both. "There is nothing, nothing here that will save us! We're not allowed to sing, we can't even speak our own languages! He calls this a family…This is a prison! There is no food, no laughter, no dancing, nothing!"

"Shh, Russia will hear you!"Eduard didn't want Russia hearing this proclomation. He could only imagine what horrible things would happen to Raivis if he found out...

The Latvian began shaking uncontrollably, his eyes feral. His small hands curled into fists.

"I need more vodka…"

"Don't say that!" Toris cried, his own eyes filling with tears.

Eduard was overcome with a sense of desperation. If only there was something he could offer, any comfort to Raivis other than alcohol...

_What does Raivis love?_

Eduard's mind went back to the days of independence, when Raivis had been free. He could remember when the boy would smile, when he would put a kokle on his lap and pluck the strings in a beautiful tune, his voice weaving an ancient folk song into the warm spring afternoon. Not many knew it, but Raivis had a beautiful singing voice. He remembered when Raivis would run along the beach, his arms outstretched against the wild winds of the Baltic. He loved to eat buberts smothered in cranberry sauce – Estonia almost smiled at the memory of Raivis grinning, his mouth lined with bright red juice. Raivis loved to dance. He would link hands with the towns children and go round and round, smiling as he sang to polka music.

_Singing, dancing, sweets, beaches…._

They had none of that here. Eduard clenched his teeth. Was there really nothing? Surely, there was some way he could make his brother smile again. There just _had_ to be. For Raivis to become addicted to alcohol was just…disgusting. It was wrong. There _had_ to be another answer.

A deep thump resonated through the hall, and the Baltics froze where they sat.

_Sitt._ This certainly wasn't the answer Eduard had wanted.

As if on cue, the three of them scrambled to their beds. Toris thrust the letter under his mattress, Eduard clicked off the light, shutting his eyes tight in an attempt to calm his breathing.

_Thump, thump, thump._ The heavy footsteps grew closer until they stopped at the door. There was the dull scape of metal as the doorknob slowly turned, then an agonizing _creeeeak_. Eduard felt his skin crawl as he imagined two glowing violets peering into their room, that innocent smile calculating who would be his next victim.

"Raaaiviiis?" Russia called. Eduard stiffened.

_God, no, not him! _

The cheerful voice continued, clearly aware that none of them were asleep. "Raivis, malyutka, why all the yelling? Are you unhappy?"

No answer. The only sound in the room was the faint creaking of bedsprings, a sign that Raivis was shaking uncontrollably.

"This is happy place. I would not want you to be unhappy, da?"

_Don't lie, you hypocritical bastard! _Eduard wanted to yell, but he bit his lip and kept quiet. He wouldn't mind getting beaten, but with both of his brothers around it was too dangerous.

"Ah!" Russia made that sound that meant he had just been stricken with a brilliant idea, one that usually involved somebody getting hurt. "I know what will make you happy! Little Latvia would like to join me in kitchen, da?"

Eduard hated it, the way Russia threw "da?" at the end of his sentences as if they had an option to disagree with what he was saying. It was quite the contrary – "da" usually meant Russia was giving a command.

Still, there was no answer.

Russia's boots echoed in the small room as he stepped closer to Raivis's bedside. "What was that, Latvia? I could not hear you…" There was the flourish of bed sheets being flung aside, and a sharp gasp from Raivis.

"D-da, I said I would g-go with you!" Came the terrified squeak. Eduard cracked his eyelids open just enough to see Raivis sitting bolt-upright in bed, barefoot and trembling. Russia's back was to him, but he could hear the ever-present grin in his voice.

"Good, I am glad! I have special treat for malen'kaya Latvia. I hope you will like it." The fabric of Russia's coat shifted as he held out a giant gloved hand. Raivis stared at it, terrified, before reaching out with his own thin fingers to take it. Russia's hand closed over his in a grip that Eduard feared would crush Raivis's bones. The boy slid off the bed, still barefoot and shaking like a leaf as his master led him out of the room. Suddenly Eduard's throat tightened in panic, and before he could stop himself he had thrown off his covers.

"Wait! Take me instead!"

That purple gaze slid in his direction, causing involuntary shivers to rack up and down his spine. A dark smile spread across Russia's face, but before he could say anything Toris spoke up.

"No, take me!"

Russia glanced at Toris, then back at Eduard. There was a terrifying moment of silence – it was in times like these that it was impossible to tell what he would do. Dealing with Russia often felt like picking their way through a mine field. Sometimes the coast would be clear, and they would leave completely unscathed. Others, Russia exploded so harshly and without warning that they would be lucky to escape conscious.

This time, Russia did something that could mean either way: He laughed. The deep _kolkolkol_ resonated in their bones, a harsh contrast to his falsely light voice.

"I do not think either of you would like the treat I have in mind for Little Latvia." The smile he was wearing seemed to say,_ I know something you don't!_

"Ivan, please –"

"Nope!" Russia cut off Toris with a shaking of his great head. "You will not like it. Don't worry, Toris, I will find something you like soon. If I didn't, that would be playing favorites, da?" He reached out with a huge hand and ruffled Toris's hair, smiling at what was meant to be a joke. Eduard felt his skin prickle with silent fury. The irony was all too cruel – Toris _was_ Russia's favorite, for which he paid a heavy price. The scars on his back testified to _that._

Eduard ground his teeth and sent Russia a glare of pure loathing. He responded with a cheery,"You too, Estonia!" Somehow Eduard got the feeling Russia was mocking him, but he didn't care. _Go to hell, Russia. _The silent insult was dismissed with a creepy smile.

"Well, Latvia and I will be going now. Have a good sleep, deti!" With two giant steps, Russia had already dragged Raivis out of the room.

"Wait!" Eduard leapt to his feet, but he was too late. The slam of the door sent a shudder through the room, and the rattle of a key in a lock made his heart leap into his throat. Eduard raced to the door and tried to wrench it open, but his efforts were useless.

They were locked inside. And Raivis was stuck with Russia.

"RAIVIS!" He continued to rattle the door handle, jarring it in its hinges. "_Russia!_ Russia, open the door! I swear if you lay a single hand on my little brother – "

"Spokoynoy nochi!" Russia called cheerfully, and the thumps of his footsteps began retreating away. Eduard was seized with panic. He flung his entire weight on the door, desperate to save his little brother.

"VENEMAA! AVATE SELLE KURADI UKS, SA KUULED MIND? SA TOOD TAGASI MU VEND VÕI REBIN KÄESOLEVA NEETUD MAJA PEALE, SA VASTIK LITAPOEG!"

"_Eduard!"_Toris gasped. "Are you _insane?"_

"He'll kill him!" Eduard stood back from the door and braced himself, expecting his master to burst in and mash him into a bloody pulp. Speaking their native tongues was absolutely forbidden, and the punishment was always swift and deadly. Eduard didn't care – he would do anything to keep Raivis out of danger. He waited.

The only sound was the soft echo of footfalls…but they were retreating.

"No…no,no,no, this can't be happening…" He flew to the door once more, uselessly rattling the doorknob. "No, no, NO! RAIVIS!"

There was no answer.

Eduard's breathing was heavy as he struggled to reign in the panic that was clawing at his imagination. A flood of images flashed through his mind – Latvia strapped to a table, kitchen knives laid out in a neat row beside him. Russia eyeing them with curiosity, before selecting one and letting the dim light flash off its deadly blade, a smile of cruel pleasure on his lips. Eduard could hear Raivis's screams, could feel the steel bite of knife blades tearing through flesh, could see the bloody scene that would greet him tomorrow morning…

"Eduard…"

He jumped at the hand on his shoulder. He had been so immersed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Toris coming up behind him. Eduard was surprised when his brother's frail hands took his own, but he didn't object. He looked into Toris's eyes and saw exactly what he felt: Absolute terror.

"There has to be something we can do?" His voice cracked as he looked imploringly at Toris. The shorter nation shook his head.

"I was certain he would kill you for screaming in Estonian, but… if that didn't work…"

Eduard's throat tightened and he was seized by anguish, a deep desperation. He and Toris had sworn that they would do anything to protect their little brother. But now Raivis was out there with Russia, and there was _nothing _they could do.

Toris's thin fingers slipped from his own as he crouched down to put his ear to the door. Eduard joined him, surprised to find that when his cheek scraped against the wood, it was wet with tears. The silence was excruciating, and he held his breath as he strained his ears for the slightest sound.

They waited for the screams to begin.

The minutes dragged on at an agonizing pace – with each passing, it felt as though they had been waiting a year. The house was so eerily quiet that or a ludicrous moment Eduard thought that maybe the silence had eaten his brother alive. In this house, you never know.

Then he heard it. It was a whisper, merely a flicker of disturbance in the stillness, but it continued, and he could feel the vibrations through the floor.

"Ivan is speaking," Toris whispered. Eduard marveled at his brother's way of recognizing their master's voice. Indeed, now that he listened, he could make out the falsely cheerful tones floating down from the kitchen. _That means torture isn't very far away. _He thought bitterly, balling his hands into fists. With each miniscule sound, his neck would prickle with anxiety and he braced himself. But as the minutes dragged on, there were no screams to be heard.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed. Three minutes could have easily been three hours. Eduard was vaguely aware of Toris's head resting on his shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. His eyelids grew heavy, and his forehead fell forward to rest on the door_. I have to stay awake… I have to stay awake for Raivis..._ But the wretched state of his country was taking its toll on his body. He was absolutely exhausted, and despite the desperate need to stay awake, Eduard could do nothing to keep himself from slipping into the realm of nightmares that was sleep.

**malen'kaya - little**

**Deti - Little Ones**

**Spokoynoy nochi! - Goodnight!**

**(The Estonian translation is very crude, and probably innacurate, but the jist of it is, "RUSSIA! You open the f****** door, you hear me? You'd bring back my brother or I'll rip this house apart, you filthy son of a b****!) Yes, Estonia can get REALLY MAD. Also this comes up again later, so make note.**

**Anyways, thank you for reading! Reviews are the elixir of life! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Next Chapter! Hope you guys enjoy! **

**Warning: This first part is a bit graphic.**

A chill ran down Eduard's spine, and it was the shiver that woke him up. He slowly blinked his eyes open, letting his sluggish mind catch up with reality. He was surprised to discover that he was leaned against the door, from which streamed in the meek morning light. Yawning, he brought up his hand to rub his eyes. He used the door for support as he groggily stood, his hand groping for the knob. There was a creak as it swung open. Eduard blinked rapidly at the vibrant explosion of red that met him. Why was there so much -

He froze. He felt his heart leap into his throat and his hand clenched around the doorknob.

That wasn't just red. That was _blood._

The entire hallway looked as if there had been a machine gun massacre. Bright crimson was splattered, smeared, and dripped onto the floor and walls. Eduard gasped when he noticed a pair of handprints, the fingers smeared as if they had been dragged away. He stepped closer to get a better look, and noticed nail marks in the wall. They were too small to be an adults' – perhaps that of a young teenager. Feeling as though he was seeing the world through someone else's eyes, Eduard allowed his gaze to fall to the floor. He could make out footprints – also that of a young teen. Next to them were giant boot marks, but the blood wasn't as clear as that from the barefoot ones. His hands came up press against his forehead and he let out a shaky breath. What had _happened_ here?

"Estonia, do you like my decorations?"

Eduard whipped around to face the towering figure of his master. Russia's coat blended perfectly with the wall. His violet eyes glowed with a cruel pleasure as he smiled ever so innocently. "I think they are very pretty. Red is my favorite color, da?"

Eduard began backing away, but it was no use as Russia took another step towards him.

"I'm glad Raivis could help me with the decorating. I always knew he liked art, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to help me…"

Eduard's mind raced to piece together the information he was hearing. Warm liquid soaked into his shirt, and he realized he had bumped into the marred wall in his attempt to get away from Russia. Suddenly, everything made sense. With a sharp gasp, he jerked his hands off of the wall, but he had already touched it. Crimson liquid was dripping off of his fingers and smeared in the creases of his palm. Eduard began to tremble at his realization:

This was Raivis's blood.

Russia was towering over him, leaning close as his cold breath stung Eduard's horrified face. His violet eyes laughed, as if telling some kind of joke. "You see, Estonia, I didn't have enough red paint…"

_Red Paint…Red paint…_

And then he screamed.

~/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/~

Eduard awoke with a jolt, his heart thundering in his ears. His eyes darted wildly around the room – he was leaning against the door and it was morning. There was a moan, and he realized that Toris's head had fallen into his lap from the jolt. The Lithuanian slowly sat up, his olive eyes groggily blinking open.

"Eduard, what's going on – Oh my god, are you okay?"

Eduard wiped a hand across his forehead to see that it was shimmering with cold sweat. It was then that the dream came back to him, and he turned his horrified gaze to Toris.

"Raivis!" He gasped. Toris's face turned ghostly white.

The two immediately scrambled to their feet, tripping over each other in the process. Eduard took hold of the door handle and pulled as hard as he could, expecting it to be locked. To his great surprise, it swung open. Instinct took over and he braced himself for another gory scene…but there was none. The hallway was just as it was the night before. Eduard was so relieved that he visibly relaxed, much to Toris's confusion.

"Come on, they were in the kitchen!" The Lithuanian cried, reminding Eduard that his dream could have taken place elsewhere.

_Oh God, please let him be safe! _He thought as they clamored up the stairs. Bursting out of the stairwell, they made a dash for the kitchen. As they turned the corner Eduard prepared himself for the worst. He stopped short at the doorway, causing Toris to slam right into him.

"Eduard, what – " The Lithuanian's voice trailed off as they both stared at the scene before them.

The kitchen was absolutely untouched. No blood. No knives. No whips or ropes or even an opened cabinet. For a moment the two Baltics just stood and stared, unable to believe what they were seeing. Eduard even blinked a few times and pinched himself to make sure.

"Do you hear anything?" Toris whispered. Eduard shook his head. This was so _creepy. _His brother stepped around him to walk into the kitchen. He opened the trash bin and reached inside, producing an empty bottle of vodka.

"There are dozens in here. I'll bet Ivan has a hangover."

If anything, this made things ten times worse. A drunken Russia meant a deadly Russia. Eduard felt a lump form in his throat. "Let's split up and find Raivis."

Without a word, he and Toris began searching the house. It was incredibly nerve-racking, especially after Eduard's gory nightmare. His eyes automatically went to the walls, searching for any signs of blood smears or handprints. Part of him _didn't _want to find Raivis, for fear of what condition he would be in.

"Eduard! Come quick!"

His heart beat doubled in speed as he made his way through the kitchen to the nearest living room, where Toris stood waiting by the entrance. A knowing look told him that he had found their brother. Bracing himself, Eduard stepped inside.

Nothing in the room was out of the ordinary except for a lump of blankets on the couch. Eduard's heart caught in his throat when he noticed the mop of honey-blonde hair at the end. He tip-toed into the living room, Toris a few steps behind. The pile of blankets rose and fell steadily, the soft breathing slow and drawn out. Raivis's hair was matted with sweat, the honey curls twisted into wet ringlets that plastered against his head. Once Eduard got close enough, he could see that the boy's face was pale. Raivis's eyelids were still, not twitching with nightmares as they usually were. There was something about him that just seemed _dead_.

Carefully, Eduard lifted the corner of the blanket to look at the Latvian's slim body. As he leaned in close, his nostrils were filled with the stench of sweat and…

_No._

It couldn't be. Eduard yanked off the blankets completely, his eyes scouring every inch of Raivis's body to check for injuries. He was very surprised to find none. As he leaned in closer to get a better look, the scent intensified.

"Is…is he okay?" Toris's voice quivered in fear of the answer. Eduard rose, his face solemn.

"Russia didn't beat him, as far as I can tell."

"Ačiū Dievui!" Toris sighed as if a thousand pounds had been lifted off his shoulders. Eduard, however, was less optimistic.

"But I fear that what he _has_ done to him is much worse…"

Toris stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Before Eduard could answer, a strangled moan rumbled from the couch. Raivis's eyelids squeezed tight, as if trying to block out the light of the morning. His small hands curled into fists and he rolled his face onto the couch. He stayed that way for a few seconds, not breathing, until at last he had to give up and turn his head sideways to gasp for air. Unable to sleep any longer, Raivis reluctantly blinked his eyes open. The usually shimmering amethysts were now sagging and blood-shot with a dreary, unattached look to him as he struggled to orient himself. At last his eyes focused on them, confused.

"Toris? Eduard? What're you doin' here? And why'm I onthuh couch?"

Eduard glanced at Toris to see if he had realized the obvious. The Lithuanian seemed to be holding back a mountain of emotions behind those terrified emeralds. Somehow he managed to pull his lips into a painful smile. "Never mind that, Raivis. How do you feel?"

Raivis's eyebrows scrunched together and he rubbed his head. "Gotta headache the size uh' Ukraine's boobs…An' my mouth feels like sandpaper. Could I have some water, please?"

And that's when Toris lost it.

In a flash he had rushed over to Raivis and pulled up the back of his shirt. The tears he had fought were now streaming down his face as his eyes roamed over his little brother's back – The little brother that was suffering a hangover. The little brother that had been forced to drink vodka last night. _Alone with Russia._

"What'r you doing?" Raivis squirmed on the couch, trying to get away from his older brother. It was no use – a moment later Eduard had reached over and pulled off the Latvian's shirt. Eduard winced upon seeing how thin Raivis was – he could easily count his ribs. _But there were no injuries._ Not a single bruise, scratch, or even a scab. Then a horrible thought came across Eduard – _No, Russia wouldn't dare…._

Without a word, Eduard pulled down the elastic of Raivis's pajama pants to get a look at his waist line.

"What are you guys – WOA, EDUARD, WHAT - !" Suddenly Raivis was very awake as he leapt away from Eduard, his cheeks stained a bright red. "Can someone PLEASE tell me what's goin' on, why's Toris crying?"

"Raivis." Eduard looked his brother sternly in the eyes. "Do you remember_ anything_ about last night?"

The Latvian looked at the floor, struggling to recall anything through his hangover. "I – no… Why, did Russia and Belarus get married?"

Eduard stopped himself from sighing in exasperation. (If Raivis was blunt when_ sober_, it was ten times worse now.) There had been no bruises or sign of rape on Raivis's waist, and as far as they could tell, he looked perfectly unscathed. _It just didn't add up._ Why would Russia go through the trouble of getting Raivis drunk if he wasn't going to take advantage of him?

"Eduard, did I ever tell how you look constipated when you think too hard?"

Eduard was more shocked at that remark than embarrassed. Suddenly Toris went from crying to throwing his arms around Raivis. "You're okay! Oh thank God, I was sure he had hurt you – I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you – I'm never letting you out of my sight again!"

"Ach, Toris, gedoff! What is up with you guys – OOF!"

Eduard couldn't help but smile as Raivis struggled to breathe through their crushing group hug. Despite his brother having a hangover, this situation was tremendously better than he had imagined. All at once Eduard found himself overwhelmed with the elation of being able to feel his brother in his arms, alive and well. _He's okay. Raivis is okay!_ That sentence repeated over and over in his head until he felt giddy with joy. It was just too good to be true.

"I'm suffocating in a Baltic sandwich!" Sweaty hands clawed at Eduard's sleeves, and at last he and Toris let the boy have his space. Toris had taken on the appearance of a fretting mother, his hands on his hips and his olive eyes wide with concern.

"Oh, Raivis, look at you! You need to take a shower immediately! And when you get out, I'll have some nice warm Pirags waiting for you in the kitchen."

Raivis looked up at Toris with bleary bloody-shot eyes. "But Pirags aren't known for their patience, Toris. They don't like waiting for anyone."

Eduard couldn't help but laugh. He put an arm around his little brother and started to guide him to the stairs. "Come on, Raivis, time to clear your head,"

"You're going to erase my head?"

"Shh."

All was well. Raivis was his usual tactless self. But Eduard could not get the burning question to leave his mind: _What was Russia up to?_

He was determined to find out for himself.

**Ačiū Dievui! - Thank God!**

**Thank you for reading! :) Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Augh, that was a really long wait! D: This chapter is a bit short. It has some cussing in it, nothing major. Enjoy! **

The mouth-watering aroma of food in the oven filled Eduard's nostrils as he stepped out into the kitchen. He couldn't help but smile upon the warm scene before him. Toris wore an olive green apron, his brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail that draped over his neck. He had rolled up his sleeves and was lightly humming to himself as his rough palms kneaded Pirag dough. As usual there was no mess in the kitchen – only an assortment of cooking ingredients spread out over the counters.

"Well _you_ seem in a good mood today,"

Bright green emeralds flashed up to meet Eduard's curious gaze, and Toris's face lit up with a smile.

"I'm just so glad that Raivis is okay. Hardly anything good happens these days… it just seems we need some more joy around here. Oh, and I left the tea kettle empty for you."

"Thank you, Toris." Eduard walked to the stove and began his daily ritual of making the tea. Often there wasn't much to do around the house, and brewing tea was a habit he had developed years ago so he wouldn't feel so _useless._Behind him he could still hear Toris humming a tune he recognized as an old folk song. Eduard was glad for the change in atmosphere, but something was still bothering him.

"Toris…"

"Yes?"

"I hate to dampen the mood, but…What do you think _happened_ last night?"

Eduard turned slightly to see Toris's brow furrow in thought. "Well…Ivan gave Raivis vodka, and last night I could hear him talking…But I can't imagine why he wouldn't – " Toris closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Eduard knew he was recalling first-hand what happened when Russia went out of control. At last the olive eyes opened, and a soft voice whispered,

"I'll just have to ask him."

Eduard shot his brother a stern look. "No."

Toris let out a sigh, his hand clenching around the dough. "It's the only way, Eduard. Ivan's probably hungover anyway – "

"I'm not letting you get hurt again, Toris."

Eduard thought he saw his brother flinch, but those emeralds flashed at him in annoyance. "He doesn't mean it."

"You say that _every time_," Eduard moaned. "And every time I have to sit there doing _nothing_ while you suffer! How much longer are you going to take this from him? How much more pain can you possibly go through before you – you – "

_Before you die._

He wanted to say it, but he couldn't. Because Eduard knew just as well as anybody that nations _couldn't _die. And that was just what was so twisted about Toris's situation. It seemed that Russia kept him alive just for his own pleasure, just because he knew that he could harm him as much as he pleased without risking the death of his "Little Litva". It was sickening, but that wasn't the half of it…

"I'll take it for as long as it takes," Toris whispered. "I'm so close. I'm almost there, Eduard. I know you can't see it, but underneath the plastic smiles and sadism, he has a heart. I've seen it. And if I keep trying, then maybe you'll get to see it too."

Eduard stared long and hard at his brother. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. He tried to make sense of the words he had just heard. _Russia has a heart?_ The phrase made him want to vomit. It simply wasn't true.

"I'm sorry, Toris. But you're wrong. All Russia has ever wanted was to harm us." Eduard saw sorrow – or was that pity? – flicker across his brother's eyes. He set the tea pot on a tray, turning to carry it out of the kitchen. Right before he left, he looked back over his shoulder.

"Toris, there's something you need to understand. Some monsters can be tamed. But Russia isn't that kind of monster. If you get too close, he'll kill you."

~/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/~

Pillars stood like prison bars towering into the ceiling, casting long dark shadows across the hall. Ancient carvings of imperialist Russia gleamed in the dim light, intricate textures seeming to shift just on the fringe of Eduard's vision. His footsteps echoed on the polished tile leading to Russia's office, making the corridor seeming vast and empty. Eduard remembered when this hall was lined with portraits of Russia's many Czars – Powerful bearded men dripping with rubies and diamonds and furs. Now all of these had been replaced with the cold faces of Communist leaders. Somehow their plain black suits seemed to give this once beautiful hallway a prison-like quality. A chill ran down Eduard's neck as he felt the penetrating gazes of his bosses follow him as he passed.

It wasn't unusual for him to make this unnerving venture to Russia's office. However, this time he was not simply delivering messages or sorting papers. He was going to do something he had never dared to do before.

He was going to confront Russia.

For years, Eduard had been careful to stay under his master's radar. But something about that conversation with Toris had sparked determination in him. He was sick and tired of watching his brothers suffer while he did nothing. Today was the day he was finally going to stand up for them.

_If Toris knew what I'm doing, he would have a fit._ Eduard mused to himself as he approached the massive oak door at the end of the hallway. Already he began to feel beads of sweat collecting on the back of his neck. Trying his best to ignore that, Eduard expertly balanced the tray of tea on one hand while he rapped sharply on the door with the other.

"Kto eto?" Came a muffled voice from inside.

"Estonia," He called back. "I've brought you some tea, would you like some?"

There was a long pause. Eduard shifted anxiously from foot to foot, glancing over his shoulder to make eye-contact with the cold stare of Joseph Stalin. He shivered.

"Hmm… I suppose I should open the fucking door now, da? Or else you might rip this cursed house apart, as I recall…"

Every muscle in Eduard's body froze. His brain screamed for him to run but his feet were rooted to the floor. _Russia understood what he had said last night._ He could hear footsteps coming to the door. His heart hammered in his ears and the tea pot began to rattle with his shaking.

"Or perhaps you have lost the nerve to make such a bold threat…" The eerily happy voice was right on the other side of the door. Before Eduard could force himself to run, it opened. A glowing pair of violets seemed to pierce his soul, lit up by a demented grin.

"Privyet, you filthy son of a bitch."

Eduard was shaking so bad that his glasses began to slip. "M-master, please – "

"Don't pretend I didn't hear what you called me last night, Estonia. I am simply returning the favor, da?"

Eduard squeezed his eyes shut. He braced himself for a slap, a whip, a bash on the head, anything. Russia hadn't forgotten his violation of the rules, and he would be harshly punished for it.

"Estonia, why are your eyes closed? Are you _afraid_?" Eduard gritted his teeth. Russia was mocking him. "Strange, you didn't seem so scared last night…or was it just because you were utterly _terrified_…" Something hard and cold forced Eduard's chin up. He opened his eyes and glared at his master. The words that came out of his mouth surprised him.

"I wasn't terrified, I was pissed."

There was a spark of irritation somewhere in Russia's eyes, but his smile only widened. The lead pipe left Eduard's chin and dug into the skin of his neck. "Oh really? And why is that, Estonia? I would never harm Malen'kaya Latvia."

"You got him drunk," Eduard's voice dripped with disgust. "What else did you do? Torture him? Rape him? Make him shiver in fear just so you could feel more powerful?"

A leather glove came up to wrap around Eduard's neck, but the creepy smile never left. "It is our little secret." Russia was on the verge of giggling. "And if Estonia insists upon asking such rude questions, I will be forced to harm Little Latvia. Would you like me to demonstrate?" Before Eduard could answer, the hand around his neck tightened. Russia squeezed ever so slowly, so that soon he could no longer breathe. Colors began to swirl in his vision, and he heard a shatter as the tea pot fell from the tray.

"Hear that shatter?" The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees. Russia was smiling like the madman that he was. "That will be the sound of my pipe on your brother's skull if you meddle in our business again." The grip around his neck tightened. _He couldn't breathe._

"Da?"

That word. He _hated_ that word.

"D-dgk…." Eduard tried to answer but speech was impossible. Slowly blackness began to eat at the corners of his vision. He thought he heard footsteps echoing in the halls, running, and then a cry…was it his name? Then his knees slammed onto the tile floor and he could breathe again. The world swirled around him as Eduard sucked oxygen back into his lungs.

"Eduard….Eduard…."

Frail hands cupped around his face, he saw a green uniform and brunette hair.

"Eduard, listen to me, are you okay?"

"Toris," he gasped, clinging onto the Lithuanian's sleeves for balance. "I think I figured it out."

"Figured out what?"

The world was a blur, but Eduard managed to look his brother in the eyes.

"I know how we can get to the bottom of this."

**Translations:**

**Kto eto? - Who is it?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well first I want to apologize for the delay. This story was SUPPOSED to be only 5 Chapters long, but then I got this idea...and then it took off from there. So lucky you, poor Baltics. :P **

**Warning: Headcanons galore. In my opinion, Prussia participated in WWII. THIS IS NOT MEANT TO OFFEND GERMANS IN ANY WAY. I have been to Germany, I have German friends. Ich liebe dich. Really. :)**

**Also I want to thank you amazing people for all the reviews! :D YOU GUYS ARE SO NICE! Hope you enjoy my new plot idea. ^ ^**

**Oh, and 'ne' is no in Lithuanian. :)**

"Eduard, slow down or you're going to faint!"

His breaths came in short gasps and the hallways seemed like a giant maze before him as Eduard led Toris through the corridors. An intricate map was scanning and calculating in his mind as each door and hallway flew past them. _First floor, green study: Bugged. First floor, peach sitting room: Bugged. First floor… _

"Eduard, are you even listening to me?"

"Shhh!"_First floor, beige guest room: Bugged._ He gave Toris a yank as he kept walking.

After about twenty years of living under Communist regime, Eduard had grown to understand one vital flaw in the system: Nobody trusted each other. These days Stalin had grown so paranoid not even Russia _himself_ was spared from the invisible eyes and ears that occupied nearly every room. It had taken months of searching and cataloguing for Eduard to memorize which rooms were safe.

_First floor, mahogany study….Wait. _For the second time that day, Toris slammed into Eduard as he stopped short in front of a smooth oak door. Eduard thought he heard some cursing in Lithuanian, but he wasn't listening. _Mahogany, study…mahogany study…._

"This is it." He whispered. At last he turned around to face a flustered Toris, his hair falling out of the ponytail and hanging in front of his face. Eduard also noticed that even though he had just been choked, Toris was the one panting for breath. Feeling slightly guilty, he held open the door and gestured for his brother to go in first.

"Jūs neturite paleisti ..." Toris muttered as he walked past, already busy fixing his ponytail. Eduard couldn't help but think he bore an uncanny resemblance to Poland.

The room was fairly small, with only some half-empty bookshelves and a chair with a side-table. Eduard felt on the wall for a light switch, but there was none.

"Here," Toris whispered, and a small flame glowed to life as he turned on the oil lamp sitting on the table. Eduard closed the door behind him with a thump, and they were enveloped in a musty darkness that smelled of dust and old parchment.

"I apologize for muttering, that was very rude of me." Toris smiled kindly, his eyes glittering in the candlelight. "So you have a way to save Raivis?"

Eduard shook his head. "I didn't say we could save him. Russia said he would hurt Raivis if we intervened. But I know how we can find out what's going on."

Toris looked at him expectantly, but Eduard knew he had to be careful with how he explained his plan. If he said this the wrong way, his brother would never agree to it. He took a deep breath before beginning.

"Well first let's state the problem. Russia has taken Raivis downstairs, but we don't know what he's doing. All we know for sure is that Raivis has been given vodka. There were no injuries, no sign of physical abuse whatsoever. However I wasn't able to tell if Russia himself was drunk – perhaps he didn't consume enough alcohol. When I spoke to Russia earlier, he referred to this as 'Our little secret.' This suggests he is going to do this again, correct?" Eduard didn't want to make assumptions. After all, it was Toris who best understood their master.

"Yes," Toris whispered. So he had been right on that part.

"Unfortunately, we don't know when Russia will do this again. But we can assume from his current habits that there will be about a week in between torture sessions. _If_, that is, this is a torture session. That means we have about a week to prepare for the next strike. Do you agree?" Again, Toris was the expert on Russia's habits.

"Yes," Toris confirmed. His face was lined with concern; the heavy shadows of the lamp making him seem much older than usual.

"So now comes the issue of how to prepare. The only way to find out what Russia is doing is to spy on him. I _could_ easily hack into some KGB equipment, if we had any. Currently there are hundreds of microphones and cameras hidden in this house, but they are all hooked up to receivers at KGB headquarters. I've cleaned Russia's office countless times and I've never seen any video screens or listening devices other than the telephone. You haven't seen any, have you?"

Toris's expression was now that of shock. "Cameras?Microphones? But that would mean that – that Russia is being _spied_ on! Don't his bosses trust him?"

Eduard shook his head. "This is the _Soviet Union_, Toris. Trust is for capitalists." It was a bitter joke, one that Russia often used. _Don't be ridiculous, Estonia, poverty is for capitalists!_ Eduard had taken to it as a way to insult the regime behind his master's back.

"That's horrible!" Toris brought a hand to his mouth, shaking his head. "No wonder Ivan is always so strict…" Eduard coughed, and Toris's eyes flashed back into focus. "Oh sorry! No, I haven't found any equipment."

Eduard sighed and lowered himself into the chair. _So there really is no other option, then._ He had hoped there might be a way out of this. "So that only leaves one option: we have to personally spy on Russia. Our main obstacle here is the door – it will be locked. We've tried countless times before to escape from that room and all attempts have been failures."

A sly smile flickered across Toris's face. "Remember the time you tried to fit Raivis through the air vent?"

Eduard felt his cheeks burn. He didn't like being reminded of his failures, of which there had been many. _That_ had been one of the more embarrassing ones. "It's not my fault Raivis has an unusually large head. Could we _please_ not stray from the subject?"

Toris attempted to hide his smile, although his eyes still danced. "My apologies, continue."

"As I said earlier, we have to be outside of the room. However the room is locked. There is only one way to achieve this: To _not_ go into the room in the first place. We can assume from Russia's current habits that he will double-check to make sure we are both in bed. This means we will have to use a decoy." Here Eduard paused, expecting an objection. He was right.

"Eduard, I don't think that's going to work." Toris's smile was sympathetic and comforting. "Ivan isn't going to fall for a pile of blankets."

"Exactly." Eduard looked his brother directly in the eyes as he said, "That's why we have to use another nation."

There was a pause, in which Toris thought this over. At last he smiled again, this time almost laughing. "I'm sorry Eduard, I really don't know who you plan to use. There's nobody else here – "

"Yes there is." Eduard had leaned forward in his chair, his voice suddenly falling to a whisper. "There _is _someone else here, Toris. It's just that we would rather pretend he doesn't _exist._"

Eduard watched in amazement as Toris's face completely transformed. The usually warm light in his olive eyes flickered out and died, replaced with a steely gleam. His eyebrows fell into a hooded line over his brow, his forehead wrinkled with distain. His jaw was set and clenched tight, his hands balled into fists at his side. The glare that the Lithuanian flashed him sent chills down Eduard's spine. It was as if that tiny room had hurled them thousands of years back in time: Back to when Lithuania was one of the most feared nations in all of Europe - Back to when he could have crushed Estonia into oblivion with the flick of a hand.

"Ne." It was a command. Toris's voice was strong and unwavering; all of his usual lightness had vanished.

Eduard forced himself not to look away from this terrifying nation. "Toris, 's the only way."

"NE." Lithuania repeated, his eyes beginning to blaze. "I will NOT associate myself with that – that – _tyrant_." He spat out the last word, as if even insulting his nemesis tasted bad.

"There's no other way! All we have to do is arrange a Soviet meeting and then Russia will pull him out for about a week to get cleaned up and fed. Russia won't suspect a thing!"

Toris scowled. "I never want to see that revolting face again. The less meetings, the better."

Eduard tensed with exasperation. He _knew_ this would happen! There was only one way to convince his brother to agree to this. "Please, Toris. This is for Raivis. If we don't do this, there's no telling what awful things Russia will do to him. You _know_ this, more than anybody. You don't want Raivis to have to go through that, do you?"

"You're insane!" Toris yelled, causing Eduard to blink in shock. "Do you even r_ealize_ what you're suggesting? You would put your trust into a narcissistic maniac who has tried to literally take over the world TWICE, almost completely wiping out an entire RACE of humans in the process! Have you forgotten, the lines and lines of your people that were mercilessly shot in the back? Women, children, who had done nothing wrong were murdered by the _thousands_, carted off to death camps where they were starved and tortured and thrown away like yesterday's trash? Have you forgotten, the promises he made but failed to keep as he just handed us over to Russia after we had finally gained independence? Have you forgotten, when he violated all peace treaties and marched into Poland and – and –" Hot angry tears were spilling from Toris's eyes as he spoke, his words stabbing Eduard's heart.

"And literally, he – he tried to – he almost – F-Feliks….Almost died…A-and then he just, he just, let Russia…k-kill… my best friend…" Toris's nostrils flared, his irises blazing with emerald fire as his cheeks glimmered in the candlelight. His voice was low and trembling with emotion as he spoke.

"If you think that _monster _in the dungeon is going to think of someone besides himself and help us, I am afraid you are dreadfully mistaken."

Eduard felt numb. Yes, he remembered. He remembered each and every second of that nightmare known as WWII. The Germans and the Russians had fought ruthlessly on his land, and he had felt his forests being ripped to shreds with each artillery shell fired. Between the Concentration Camps and the Gulags, his people had nearly been wiped out.

No, he hadn't forgotten.

"I'm sorry Toris." His voice was cracked, weak. It was no match for the powerful speech Lithuania had given. "I'm sorry he's taken away so much from you. But I'm not trying to justify anything he's done. I'm only trying to help our little brother."

There was a long stretch of silence. Eduard waited patiently for Toris to speak, not wanting to break his concentration. Then there was a whisper, so soft and ethereal that Eduard thought he had imagined it.

"You would still need the dungeon key." Toris lifted his head, his expression eerily blank. "The key…" he repeated, his eyes wide and looking past the air in the small dark room. Eduard watched him and wondered what the ancient nation could be seeing.

"I…was hoping you would know where it was." Eduard said quietly. "Russia trusts you with these kinds of things, so I assumed - "

"I won't do it." Toris seemed to have snapped out of his trance, although he wouldn't look Eduard in the eyes. "I don't know where the key is. This whole plan, it'sjust –Ne, aš tai ne."

Eduard clenched his teeth. Toris said no. _Toris said no._He knew that the Lithuanian would die to save his little brother.

_And he still said no?_

Eduard wanted to argue. He wanted to pose facts and figures riddled with logic and basic problem-solving. But Toris wasn't an intellectual thinker. No amount of data could convince him to go against his gut instinct. Eduard could try to come up with some emotional appeal, but he had never been good at that. He was siezed with desperation. Why couldn't he convince Toris? It seemed that _Russia_ could get him to do anything; why wouldn't he listen to his own brother?

Toris let out a sigh, his footseps echoing as he walked to the door. His eyes were swimming with secrets.

"I'm sorry, Eduard, but you'll just have to think of another plan. Have a good day."

And with that, he closed the door and left Eduard frustrated and alone in the musty darkness.

**Translations:**

**Jūs neturite paleisti - You didn't have to run**

**Ne, aš tai ne - No, I won't do it**

**When Lithuania is talking about Feliks, he is referring to the Polish Invasion in 1939. This is how WWII got started. Basically Germany said they weren't going to bother anyone else, but Hitler was getting uber power-hungry so he made a little deal with Stalin. The pact said that if Russia assisted in invading Poland, the Soviets would gain control over the Baltics. Really bad day for Toris.**

**AN: I got a few requests for a pairing, and I just wanted to give y'all a heads up that there IS a pairing in the next chapter, but it's not EstLiet. (SO SORRY!) I'm only doing this because it's vital to the storyline. THIS STORY IS NOT A ROMANCE. (Please don't kill me)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again. :) This chapter is in Toris's perspective. I had hoped to keep the entire story in Eduard's perspective, but this was unavoidable. From now on this story will be filled with headcanons, so have fun hating them or loving them.**

Toris's mind was numb as he bent down to sweep the shards of glass that were still in front of Russia's office. Even though clinking of porcelain echoed through the hall, he heard something else entirely.

_An ear-splitting shatter pierced the house, shards of glass exploding in every direction. He cowered behind the table, his hands covering his head in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the explosion. Splinters whizzed like tiny bullets into his skin, the sheer heat of the blast burning clean through his uniform. His lungs were filled with smoke and he clutched his chest as he began coughing violently, his bloodied hands clawing the floor for balance._

Toris winced as a shard cut into his finger, and a glimmering droplet of crimson welled up and dripped onto the floor. He blinked and stared at that color – so vivid, so purely –

_Crimson. Two orbs of glittering scarlet jeered down at him, those disgusting lips curled into a satisfied smirk. His teeth were a startling white against all the red – the red in the sky, the red in His eyes, the red staining His uniform. He struggled against the pain screaming in his arms and legs, forcing himself to stand up. A sharp blow to his shoulder sent him keeling over, his teeth cutting into his lip as his face hit the floor. The familiar tang of warm blood filled his mouth. _

Toris licked his dry lips. He could imagine it perfectly; the taste of blood was so familiar to him. He reached up with a hand to touch his mouth, holding out his fingers to make sure he wasn't really bleeding. It seems he never stopped bleeding these days; there was always a part of him that was leaking out…

_"Kesesesese! Look at you, leaking out your insides all over the floor like some kind of kindergartener with a stomach virus! What's the matter, Toris, didn't take your medicine this morning?"_

_He winced and ground his teeth together, hissing, "You're mad! Laughing at something like this – only a monster could smile while innocent die!"_

_"HAH! Innocent? All I see is a scum bag who needs a haircut and doesn't even have the guts to fight for his own people! You're WORTHLESS!" A boot dug into his ribs, causing then to grind into organs they weren't supposed to. A sickly groan escaped from his lips._

His grip around the dust pan was so strong that his knuckles had turned white. Toris gritted his teeth, hating these memories but letting them come back to him. He _wanted_ to loathe that man. He wanted to remember what he had done to him.

_"Pathetic. You'd think after years of living with that Russian psycho you'd have more pain tolerance." _

_He cried out as his head was yanked up by his hair and the cool metal of a gun barrel was pressed to his neck. He forced himself to look into those eyes – those two blazing pools of blood and fire. _

_"You belong to us now." Came the contended growl, leering like the madman He was._

_He glared up at his nemeses before spitting in His face. "Go to hell."_

_Obnoxious laughter filled the air, a terrifying insane sound that sent chills down his spine. How could someone laugh like that?_

_"KESESESE! You just don't get it, do you? This is fucking World War Two!" He leaned in close so that His rancid breath spilled over his nostrils and made him want to choke. "In case you haven't noticed, this IS hell. Welcome to the Third Reich, Useless-uania."_

He shuddered at the memory of that horrid name, the name that had been jeered at him for centuries.

_"You may claim my land but you will NEVER claim my people."_

He blinked when he realized he had said it out loud. Toris picked up a glistening white shard, holding it up and testing the tip with a finger."Never." He whispered, before clenching his palm around the shard and hurling it at the wall where it shattered into pieces.

"Toris?"

He jumped sharply at the sound of his name, accidentally letting go of the dustpan. There was a small crash as porcelain spilled back onto the floor. Toris felt a familiar sense of fear seize him as he began to tremble violently.

"S-sorry! I didn't know you were standing there…." He refused to turn around. He couldn't face this right now, not when there were already too many things to think about…

"Litva, is something wrong?"

He should have relaxed at the tone of his master's voice – smooth, concerned, without a trace of anger or insanity. Instead Toris found himself extremely nervous at the use of his pet name.

"N-no, sir." He stammered. "I-I'm doing well." At first there was no reply, and for moment Toris thought he had escaped the situation. Then a large hand clamped onto his shoulder, causing him to freeze in terror.

"You did not sound fine just now." The strong grip turned him around so that he was forced to look up into those eyes.

Russia's eyes had always been a mystery to Toris. It seemed that every aspect of his life here had been reflected in those two amethysts. They had been flaming in hot fury, or glowing with a sick pleasure for blood. They had been full of unimaginable pain and suffering. They had been spilling over with tears as he cried out, "Prosti menya, prosti menya…" It baffled him, how the same eyes that laughed at his suffering could beg for a friend.

Now, they were filled with genuine concern. Russia was not smiling as usual; he was looking at Toris so closely that the silence stretched into awkwardness.

"Toris…" He whispered, the amethysts widening with surprise. "Are you…_angry_?"

Toris blinked. Perhaps that wasthe strange churning of his stomach that he felt? He hadn't been truly angry in ages; he always made sure to control his emotions so that he could remain strong for his brothers. He had given up being mad at Russia long ago.

But now with this whole mess about Raivis and…_and HIM_…

"I – I was just – remembering something." He said quietly, hoping to dear God that Russia would remove his hand from his shoulder. Russia didn't.

"Remembering what, Litva?"

"I – well, I was thinking about… World War II."

Toris saw it: the way Ivan's eyes grew slightly darker, as if any moment he would emerge back into the terrifying master that enjoyed watching Toris tremble and stutter in fear. Dealing with Russia's mood swings was a never-ending tribulation. Even after centuries, Ivan was still unpredictable.

"And what about World War II had made my little Litva angry?"

_Everything._ Toris thought bitterly. But what came out of his mouth was something else, something that surprised him.

"Prussia."

Russia's eyes grew wide, obviously not expecting that answer. He took a step closer to Toris, pulling him nearer so that they were only a few inches apart. "He took you away from me, da?" He whispered, his eyes gleaming with revenge. "He came into my house and stole you away… I have never forgiven myself for that. I died that day I lost you, Toris."

Toris felt the blood rise to his face as he averted his eyes, feeling the awkwardness intensifying.

"But then I got you back, da?" A gloved finger tickled the side of his face as Ivan tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Toris felt his face burn; why, _why_ did Ivan have to make things so uncomfortable! He wanted to bolt, he wanted to run away…But something kept him there.

"We're together again. A happy family…" A small smile lifted at the corners of Ivan's mouth, his eyes growing wide and melted. Lithuania felt his heart hammer, his palms becoming slippery with sweat. _Ne, Ivan, please don't look at me like that…_

Leather brushed his cheek, Ivan's touch soft and careful as Toris's chin was forced upwards. Looking into those eyes he felt as if he was being swallowed by a violet sea.

"Litva?" He could smell the vodka on Ivan's breath. "Remember when I promised you a treat?"

Toris felt his heart drop to his toes. _Dieve._He couldn't stop the tremble that ran through his body. He was overwhelmed with a blind fear and dread, the desperate need to run away and hide behind the protection of his brothers. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream for Russia to leave him alone.

But suddenly Toris was struck with a realization:This may be his only chance to help Raivis. His stomach fluttered; was he brave enough?

The side of his face tingled as Ivan stroked it with a thumb. "Well I have something in mind…Do you what I am thinking of, my little Litva?"

_Yes. Brangus Dieve, please let it not be that, anything but that!_"No," He whispered. Toris jumped at the rumble of Russia's laugh. His master leaned in so that they were disturbingly close.

"Silly Litva…always so oblivious. You know what I'm talking about, da?"

And then before Toris had the chance to even open his mouth in a reply, Ivan leaned down and pressed their lips gently together.

Kissing Ivan was a sensation Toris had dealt with countless times, but each time seemed like the first. The bitter taste of vodka filled his mouth and he held back a gag. His heart was beating a mile a minute, his brain was screaming for him to get away, _get away_, GET AWAY. But he never did.

He was always too afraid.

It took a moment for Toris to come back to earth. There was something he was supposed to _do_… His mind was clouded with the fact that Ivan was _kissing_ him… Large fingers began to thread through his hair… Oh God, why was he kissing back?

Oh right. That was it.

Slowly, carefully, Toris began to slip his hand beneath Russia's scarf. He slid his arm up in an almost sensual gesture, causing Ivan to smile against him. Toris let out an involuntary yelp as Russia forced his tongue into his mouth and -_Ugh vodka is so disgusting…_

Focus.

With a jerk, Toris's hand brushed metal. He gasped, closing his trembling fingers around the small object that hung from Ivan's neck - smooth and metallic with niches on one side…

Toris's chest clenched. He could hear nothing but the battering of his heart against his ribcage. It came all at once – Terror, guilt, excitement, triumph, dread.

He wasn't sure if he was brave enough to do this. He would never forgive himself for it, but he would never forgive himself if he sat back and did nothing. That was the thing Toris hated most about himself: he could always seem to forgive others, but never himself.

It was all a blur. They broke apart, Ivan's breath tickled his ear as he whispered something: A request a command…a summon. Or was it a death sentence?

_Litva, you will come to my room tonight, da?_

And then Toris did something he had sworn he would never do.

He said yes.

Because Toris had found the key.

**Translations:**

******Prosti menya: Forgive me**

**Dieve: God**

**Brangus Dieve: Dear God**

**AN: That wasn't so bad now, was it? I'm trying to keep this T rated, so mention of rape is about as bad as it will get. Reviews are awesome!**


	7. Chapter 7

**This** **Chapter...SO MUCH ANGST. I cried, you guys. D': (This is back in Eduard's perspective)**

"You look like you have a hangover."

"Hypocrite."

"Hey! It wasn't my fault!"

"No yelling, you're hurting my brain."

"What brain?"

Despite his piercing headache, Eduard smiled. He reached down and ruffled Raivis's hair, causing the boy to squeal and push his hands off.

"Hey, I'm not a little kid!"

Eduard winced. "Raivis, can you for _once_ keep your voice down? Just this once?"

Raivis resigned himself to glaring as he handed Eduard another glass. Eduard slid it onto the shelf with a soft _clink_ before sighing and massaging his temples.

Damn this headache! If Toris hadn't dissed his plan, he wouldn't have had to spend his day trying to come up with something else. Eduard had thought of _everything_, from stealing KGB equipment to using spoons to enlarge the air vent.

_Spoons._ He mentally scoffed, sliding another glass onto the shelf. _Brilliant._ So much for saving Raivis. The only thing his scheming had accomplished was to give him this unbearable migraine.

"Okay, _now _you just look like you ate a bug and it got stuck in your small intestine."

Eduard glared at his little brother, not sure whether to laugh or get angry. His patience was running thin; he just wanted to go to sleep. Maybe he'd think of something tomorrow..."Give me that."He snatched the last glass from Raivis and put it on the shelf, closing the cabinet doors.

"You don't have to be… _rude_…" Raivis's insult was interrupted with a cavernous yawn. He stretched and wiped his eyes, leaning forward to rest his head on Eduard's side. The contact made Eduard relax a bit, and he put an arm around his brother.

"Come on, sleepy-head, let's get to bed."

"Mmm. Thanks for helping me with the glasses. I would've dropped them."

_Thanks to alcohol_. Eduard thought grimly, tightening his grip around Raivis's shoulders. He didn't care if he had to spend the remainder of his life suffering from headaches – he wouldn't rest until he had thought of a way to save Raivis.

The two walked down the stairs and into the bathroom down the hall from where they slept. Eduard knew Toris was probably working late, so he didn't bother to check if he was in the room. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen the Lithuanian since their "conference" in the study. _Good._ He thought, getting irritated just at the thought of his older brother. If there was one person Eduard _didn't_ want to see, it was Toris. Murderous thoughts brewed in his head as he washed up and returned to the bedroom. This whole situation…it was going to drive him off the edge.

He was so enveloped in his thoughts that he didn't notice Raivis tugging on his night shirt.

"Hey, I asked you a question, bugface!"

"_What?"_ Eduard snapped.

"You're being such a grouch today. I was_ just_ asking if you knew where Toris was."

Deciding not to retaliate at Raivis's statement (for it was true, as usual), Eduard lifted his gaze to see that Toris's bed was empty. "He's probably finishing up the cleaning. You know how he is."

"But it's late!"

"Exactly. And that's why _you_ need to get in bed."

Raivis folded his arms. "I'm not going to sleep unless Toris is here."

Eduard had to restrain himself from pulling out his hair. Who _cares_ where Toris was!? The insolent brat had rejected his well-conceived plans anyways; it's not like his presence would be granting them anything but dismal rejection and hopeless disappointment and even _more_ migraines…

Eduard wanted to kill something.

"If I find Toris, will you shut up and let me sleep?"

Raivis nodded.

"_Fine_. Stay here."

~/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/~

Russia's mansion had never been a pleasant place. The elegant curtains and furniture always made it seem too imperialist to feel at home. Since falling under Communism Russia had gotten rid of most of his traditional decorations, but that had only left a vast emptiness that created a prison-like atmosphere. Often during his daily chores, Eduard felt as though he was wandering within the innards of a massive creature - held captive in the belly of Russia's mansion.

Only at night did he ever feel truly terrified.

Silver moonlight streamed from the windows, producing shadows that mutated and warped when Eduard wasn't looking. Some areas of the house had no light at all, creating black holes that could hide all sorts of terrors - Knives. Whips. A pair of gleaming violet eyes. A shudder ran down Eduard's spine. Normally he would tell himself that there was no such thing as monsters, but experience had taught him otherwise.

Moving as swiftly as possible, he checked the kitchen and main living rooms. Toris was nowhere to be found. _That's odd._ It wasn't too unusual for Toris to be late, but he was almost always in the kitchen…

A faint creaking noise floated from within a corridor, as if someone was sneaking down the hall. Eduard frowned to himself. That was strange, that hallway was the one that led to…

His heart stopped.

_Russia's room. Sitt._

Before he knew it, Eduard was running. Down the hallway, around the corner, his breath coming in hot pants. He could see a faint silhouette of a slim nation with shoulder-length hair, tip-toeing in the direction of their master's room.

"_Toris Lorinaitus!"_He hissed. "What are you _doing?_"

There was a sharp gasp and the silhouette looked around frantically before darting down another hallway. If anything, this just pissed off Eduard more than he already was. In a few bounds he had rounded the corner and was gaining on the Lithuanian. He reached out into the darkness, his hand closing around the neck of Toris's uniform. The Lithuanian let out a stifled cry as Eduard slammed his back onto the wall.

"What… are… you_ doing_?" He demanded, breathing hard in Toris's face.

"I – I… P-lease Eduard, I…. I'm sorry!" The moonlight reflected off of tears that streamed down Toris's face. He was hyperventilating.

"Sorry for _what?"_ Eduard's voice was breathy and harsh. "What are you here for? Why were you going to Russia's room?"

Toris's shoulders began shaking with sobs. "I –I…"

A black pit of horror ate at Eduard's gut. He knew.

"It's Russia again, isn't it? Don't you dare lie to me, Toris!"

The Lithuanian seemed to be in a state of hysteria. He refused to look into Eduard's eyes.

"I – ne! I mean – ne, tai ne – P-please…"

Eduard scowled and yanked his brother forward by his uniform. "Come with me, we're going back."

"No!" Toris cried, his sweaty hands reaching up and trying to pry Eduard's grip from his collar. "You don't understand!"

Eduard froze for a moment, overcome by an eerie sense of déjà vu. "Understand _what? What,_Toris, is there to understand, other than that Russia is abusing you? All he wants is to mark you as his, to scar you for life so you'll be his property until the day you die! Is _that_ what you want?"

"I never said I wanted this," Toris insisted. "I do this because I have no _choice_!"

"If you have no choice," Eduard growled, "Then how come you're out here of your own accord? Nobody is forcing you; one would think that you _enjoy_ it!" Wait. Did he just say that out loud? Eduard could see that something had broken in Toris's eyes. At first the Lithuanian looked at him in horror, but in a flash it ignited into a fiery glare.

"How _dare_ you," Toris's voice was dangerously low. "How _dare_ you suggest that I would do something like that. You know very well that I am in love with Belarus, if you think for one_ moment_ that I would betray her – "

"You betray _her_? She tried to stab you! You keep running to the wrong people, Toris. I won't let you keep doing this to yourself! How can you care for them when they hurt you so much?"

"Because I know how to forgive!"Toris cried. "You should try it sometime! Maybe then you wouldn't be so heartless – sometimes you're worse than Russia!"

Eduard felt an icy pit form in his chest. He had always feared that his time here at Russia's house had turned him cold - that he no longer mourned over simple things like death and starvation. He was never an emotional person, and he was afraid that he was lacking some of the feelings that his brothers seemed to possess. Toris had taken his deepest darkest fear and hurled it right at his face.

_Sometimes you're worse than Russia!_

Those words echoed menacingly in Eduard's head. It felt as though all of his anger – the frustration of his people's sufferings, the starvation, the imprisonment, the way he and his brothers were treated – had built up behind a dam that had shattered to a million pieces. Hot rage exploded from inside him and flooded his veins. He would make Toris pay for that comment.

"Better to be heartless than to have a heart that is used by every fucking nation! You were practically married to Poland, but did he ever do anything to help you? If I recall, he actually _laughed_ when Russia took you away. But you still fawn over him like he's your best friend! Belarus nearly killed you, and yet you still allow her to break your heart again and again. And America! I bet you slept with that Capitalist every night – "

A sharp sting slapped into Eduard's cheek. He blinked, taking a moment to realize that Toris had _struck _him. He was so astounded by this that his grip relaxed enough for the Lithuanian to wrench free.

"It's called _love_!"Toris's voice trembled. "Not sex, not lust, not anything else! _Love_, Eduard! Do you not know this word? Has your heart turned so cold that you have forgotten its meaning?"

_Love?_ Eduard felt as though he would vomit. What did love have to do with anything? Toris was being abused physically and mentally, and here he was rambling about _love_ of all things? Only last night Eduard had watched his little brother be dragged away from him. He was NOT about to let the same happen to Toris.

"If this is_ love_," he hissed, "Then why are you crying? Why do you have scars on your back? Why am I haunted by your screams? _Why are you letting him destroy you?"_

Suddenly Toris fell silent. His shoulders grew still and he hung his head. There was an eerie silence between them, Eduard watching intensely for an answer.

"I…" For the first time that night Toris looked into Eduard's eyes. His cheeks were shimmering with tears, and in the darkness Eduard could see that his eyes were filled with unbearable pain.

"The reason I let Russia destroy me is because if I don't… he'll destroy _you._ And Raivis, and Feliks, and Hungary and Romania and who knows else… I'm the only one who can stop him. I'm the only one standing between him and my friends. That is the kind of love I'm talking about, Eduard. And that is why I cannot go with you."

A black numbness of guilt and horror ate at Eduard's gut. It was as if someone had slapped him in the face a second time. _What? _Toris was taking all of this…_on purpose?_

Toris sank to his knees at Eduard's feet, his head bowed so that his hair sprawled out across the floor.

"I know I am a disgusting nation. I'm dirty and used, just like you said. This is the only thing I have left: to protect you. Other than that, I don't deserve to live."

Eduard was absolutely speechless. Suddenly he was struck with a realization: _He could take Toris's place._ He could tell his brother to go back to the room safe with Raivis, and he could walk willingly into Russia's room –

_Privyet, Estonia! So you have chosen to take my dear Toris's place? How sweet of you! I always thought you were very attractive under all the attitude... You will strip now, da?_

A dreadful shudder went down Eduard's spine and he suppressed a gag.

No. He_ couldn't._ He could never handle it. He just wasn't brave enough.

Without a word, Eduard slowly turned his back on his brother. He seemed in a trance as his legs moved of their own accord. He took one step. Then another. He was leaving Toris. Abandoning him, alone and devastated to face the fury of Russia… A sharp pain jabbed Eduard's heart with each step, but he ignored it. He blocked out the voices screaming in his head to turn around. He blocked out the images of thousands of accusing fingers, declaring him a heartless traitor. Screaming that he had grown as cold as Russia himself.

_It can't be helped._ He thought. And kept walking.

Raivis was waiting just where Eduard had left him, leaning slightly against the doorjamb. At the sound of his footsteps, the boy's violet eyes flew open.

"Did you find him?"

Eduard refused to look Raivis in the eyes, instead fixing his gaze onto the dusty floor.

"No."

"W-what? But then… where is he?" Raivis's voice trembled with fear. Eduard did not answer.

"W-where IS HE?!" Raivis cried, racing to the door and flinging it open. "TORIS! TORIS, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"SHHH!" Eduard hissed, clamping his hand over Raivis's mouth and slamming the door shut. He could feel wet tears sliding down his palm. He leaned down to whisper in the frantic boy's ear.

"Toris won't be coming back tonight, Raivis."

Raivis let out a wail, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. His shoulders began to shake with sobs as he struggled against Eduard's grip, reaching feebly for the door. Eduard pulled him away, guiding him to the bed where Raivis laced his arms tight around his chest and began sobbing into him. He spoke a blubbery mixture of Latvian and Russian.

"N-nē, not Toris, not again…I-it's not fair! He-he always gets taken! He always gets tortured and – and – the scars on his back… Tas nav godīgi, tas nav godīgi ...T-Toris, kur tu esi, kur tu esi ..."

Eduard's chest clenched. He reached over and clicked off the light, sinking into the covers where Raivis's rapid heartbeat fluttered against his own. Soft locks of hair brushed his chin as the Latvian burrowed into him, his sniffles and whimpers muffled by Eduard's nightshirt.

One night it was Raivis. Now it was Toris. Eduard felt as he was being eaten alive by failure. What kind of brother was he? What kind of _brother_ would just sit back while these awful things happened to his only friends in the world?

_Toris is right. I really _am_ as cold as Russia. _He thought, fighting off the tears that welled up in the corners of his eyes.

_This house is turning me into a monster._

**Translations:**

**ne, tai ne - no it's not**

**Tas nav godīgi, tas nav godīgi ...T-Toris, kur tu esi, kur tu esi ...- It's not fair, it's not fair...T-Toris, where are you, where are you...**

**I know most of you are probably wondering why Toris didn't tell Eduard about the key. There are reasons for everything, my friends. :) So now that I have tortured your soul with terribleness...Reviews? :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here we are folks, back with Toris... I apologize if you don't like Rusliet, but it stays rated T. **

Golden sunlight made colors swirl on the inside of Toris's eyelids, but he felt too exhausted to open them. He was enveloped in a soft warmth, so pleasant compared to the usual biting cold of his own bed. He ran a finger along the soft linens that cocooned him. It was then that he noticed the warm breath tickling the back of his neck. It was slow and steady, completely at peace. With a jolt, Toris froze and all the warmth was blasted away by sick horror. His eyes flew open, and he immediately regretted it. A pale muscular arm was draped over his bare chest, and he was suddenly aware of the heat of skin-on-skin along his back and legs. He could feel the steady rise and fall of Russia's breathing in rhythm with the tickling on the back of his neck. Toris shuddered and clenched his fist around the sheets.

He was disgusted with himself. He was wet, sticky, _dirty_. He wanted to untangle himself and put as much distance between him and his "lover", his master, the man who had taken everything away from him. Bile filled Toris's mouth and he swallowed it. Running his tongue along the back of his teeth, he realized that he could still taste the bitterness of vodka.

There was a soft moan behind him, and he promptly shut his eyes. The bed shifted slightly, he could feel the burn of Russia's gaze on the back of his head. Toris had to use every ounce of control not to jolt when large fingers began to run through his hair, softly, playfully, letting the brunette locks fall back into place.

"Ty takaya krasivaya ..." Russia whispered, so softly that Toris barely heard it. He tensed when soft lips pressed gently against his forehead, then the arm was removed from his chest and the warmth disappeared with the creaking of bed springs. Toris shivered as the cold bit into his bare skin, pulling the bed sheets tighter around himself. The bed shifted and sprung back into place as Russia stood, Toris listening carefully to the thump of bare feet making their way to the adjoining bathroom. The door opened, then closed, and he waited anxiously until he could hear the steady spray of shower water.

Toris's eyes flew open and he flung aside the bed sheets. He immediately wished he hadn't – his head spun with stars as he staggered to the pile of clothing on the floor, reaching down to snatch up his pants. He pulled them on as quickly as he could, fingers trembling so badly that he couldn't snap them shut. He cursed under his breath before giving up; at least he was somewhat clothed.

Toris knelt down beside the bed, running his hand between the mattress and the frame. At last his fingers brushed cool metal, and he pulled out a small brass key. _Right where I left you._ He stared at it, trying to remember what demon had possessed him to go through so much, all for a simple mundane object. Toris impulsively looked down on himself, cringing at the number of finger-shaped bruises and hickies that littered his bare torso. He shook his head, trying desperately to rid himself of the memories, although he knew they would scar him forever. Toris shoved the key into his pant pocket, making sure it was impossible to see through the pressed fabric. He stood up, again feeling his stomach squirm at the sight of twisted bed sheets. He began the ritual of peeling them off, tossing them into a heap on the floor. Russia had already set out a pile of neatly folded linens for Toris to replace these with. It was sick, the way Ivan made him clean up the mess afterwards, as if it was his fault.

With a flourish, he flung out the first blanket of white. It slowly drifted to the bed, like new snow covering the dirty soil of earth. Toris was so immersed in his thoughts that he was startled by the tall figure of Russia that appeared on the other side of the sheet.

"Dobroye utro Litva." He smiled, his eyes glittering as they observed his handy work. Toris wished he had put on a shirt.

"D-Dobroye utro, ser."

Russia's eyes flicked up to send him a glare that could chill blood. "I thought we went over this, Toris."

Toris swallowed hard, feeling the sweat collect on his palms again. "Ivan…" he whispered. "Dobroye utro, Ivan."

A wide smile spread across Ivan's face. "Better. Now come here." Toris hesitated a moment before walking around the bed to where Russia was standing. A sweet fresh scent of sunflowers wafted from the man, his hair still wet from the shower. He was in full uniform, but Toris felt uncomfortable being this close to him, especially with the key still in his pocket… Something soft was placed into his hands, and Toris looked down to see that Ivan had given him his scarf. He looked up in confusion and was met with gleaming violets.

"Wrap it around my neck."

"Yes, s...Da, Ivan."

Russia smiled.

Toris took a deep breath, then stretched his arm over Russia's neck to drape the scarf. Ivan bent down slightly so that he could reach, his breath tickling Toris's chest. The Lithuanian brought the scarf down and back up again, but this time something wet brushed against his nipple.

"_Ivan!"_ He squeaked, his heart pounding. Ivan chuckled.

"I couldn't help myself, Litva. You are just too delicious to ignore."

"S-stop touching me," Toris seethed. "I gave you what you wanted already. The least you could do is give me some – " He was cut off by Russia's lips crashing against his own. The kiss was gentle and slow at first, Russia automatically dominating and running his hands through Toris's hair. A strange exhiliration coursed through the Lithuanian's veins, and he moved against his lover by habit. Ivan bit at his lower lip and Toris oblidged, reaching up to cup Ivan's face as their tongues intertwined. They breathed slowly, heavily, until at last they parted. They're foreheads were still touching, chests rising and falling in rhythm. It was then that Toris remembered something else.

"Ivan?" He whispered. The Russia's smile widened as he looked down on his lover.

"Da?"

"I – I've been meaning to ask you something…"

Ivan's fingers playfully trailed Toris's neckline, rubbing on the soft skin. "Mm? What is that?"

"Well…" Toris reached up to massage Ivan's collarbone. He could feel Ivan's heartbeat quicken and he seemed to relax in Toris's arms. Perhaps he could pull this off. "I was just thinking…" he looked up with melted eyes and brushed back Ivan's bangs. Violets widened in surprise. "I just thought that it had been a while since our last meeting…" Russia opened his mouth to say something but Toris silenced him with a sweet kiss. This time he fought to stay dominant, and although it didn't work, he emited a small moan to please Russia. When they parted Ivan seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say. Toris continued, "I thought that maybe it was time the Satellite States got back together in Moscow, for a meeting." Ivan's eyes were confused. "I don't understand. Everything here is perfect, there is no need for a meeting."

Toris smiled despite the panic rising somewhere in the back of his mind. "Well, yes. We are happy here. But don't you think…" He leaned forward so that his lips were tantalizingly close to Ivan's. "Don't you think there might be some things – " He was cut of this time not by a kiss, but by the crushing grip constricting his left wrist. It was so sudden and unexpected that his voice hitched in his throat. Toris was suddenly aware of the room getting colder, and the violet fire that burned in Ivan's eyes.

"You are lying." Russia's voice had become extremely childish, a tone that send shivers down Toris's spine. "You are not happy here. You are just saying that because you are afraid of what happens when you tell the truth. Go on, _Litva_, tell Mother Russia how you _really_ feel about living here."

Toris was terrified. He couldn't force his mouth to move. Ivan's grin widened, then there was a crack and hot pain exploded in Toris's wrist. He was flung against the wall, his chin banging on the plaster. Toris fell and reached out with his hands to catch himself, but his wrist crunched under his weight and he let out a cry as his head slammed into the floor.

"Little Litva thinks it's fun to play with Mother Russia…" Ivan giggled, his voice dripping with sweet sarcasm. "To kiss him, to love him, then to USE HIM and ask for a _meeting._ What's wrong this time? Not enough food? Too much work? Well forgive me if you are so _spineless_ that you cannot even keep up with the quotas." A boot dug into Toris's ribs and he heard another crack. Splatters of red were dripping onto the floor beneath him.

"You are a pathetic beggar, Lithuania. Too stupid to realize all that I have given you. My home, my food, my bed. I keep you inside where it is warm, I protect you from the inconveniences of the Soviet Union." A huge hand clamped around Toris's neck and lifted him inches in front of his master's face. Russia grinned madly as he cooed, "Do I hear a Sasibo, Toris?"

"Sasib – "

A quick blur, then pain exploded in Toris's nose. His brain buzzed a little, but he could still see Russia's face clearly.

"You lie again. You keep lying to me." Toris was set on his feet, but he barely had time to gain his balance before another fist collided into his left eye. Toris staggered back and hit the wall, then a punch sank into his gut. He leaned over and moaned.

"Please, Ivan…I beg of you…"

"Shut UP!" Toris was startled by Russia's loss of control; it was rare for him to raise his voice like that. He looked up to see that Russia was looking conflicted, his eyes swimming with hurt and confusion. "Shut up or you'll make me hurt you again..." Ivan's lips lifted into a small smile, his voice dropping to an eerie whisper. "I love to see you in pain, Litva. I love to hear your scream and to watch the rivers of red flow from your broken body. I love to see those beautiful tears streaming from your beautiful eyes, you are so beautiful, Litva… So why must I break you again and again, it is because I love you…" The smile vanished and Russia's eyes widened. Toris caught sight of something, a spark of…was it fear? And then without another word, Russia turned on his heels and strode to the bedroom door, closing it behind him with a slam that rattled the entire mansion.

~/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/~

Eduard's glasses slipped again and he pushed them back up with a huff. He resumed his reading, eyes skimming across the lines and lines of false logistics. Wheat harvests, up 40% this year, morale, up 60%, public support, up 80%. It was the biggest load of bullshit he'd ever had to put up with, and yet this is what his people saw in the newspapers every day. Eduard's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. His stomach sank immediately; there was only one nation in this mansion who would knock. For a moment he considered pretending he wasn't here, but that probably wouldn't help anything.

"Come in."

The door cracked open just enough so that the smell of sunflowers wafted into the small study. Eduard had braced himself for meeting Toris, but he had completely forgotten about that awful shampoo Russia used. Eduard didn't even want to _think_ of why Toris would be using Russia's shampoo… He suppressed a gag, noting that the smell was strong enough for Toris to have used it at _least_ a dozen times.

The Lithuanian cautiously stepped into the small study. He was wearing his uniform, but with the addition of a bright red scarf that came up to his ears. His hair was still wet from the (thorough) shower, parted in a way that shiny strands of hair veiled his face from view. Toris refused to look up from the ground; he held the uncanny appearance of a child who had been caught doing something he shouldn't.

Eduard's stomach twisted into knots, still unable to grapple with the guilt of his words the night before. There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry."

Both of them looked at each other, shocked at the words they had each spoken at the exact same moment. Eduard felt a second blow to his emotions; Toris had a black eye. Not only that, but he could clearly see that his nose had been broken and there was a deep cut on his chin and forehead. Eduard wanted to ask about the injuries, but he knew they were his fault.

"Why did you apologize? You didn't do anything wrong."

Lithuania smiled bitterly, for a moment it struck Eduard as something Russia would have done. "Jūs nieko nežinote nuodėmės…" he whispered. Eduard squirmed in his chair, he didn't like it when Toris spoke his native tongue around him.

"Well I just wanted to say I'm sorry for leaving you last night. And everything I said, I take it back."

"Why? Most of what you said about me was true. I deserved it."

Eduard stood up from his chair with a scrape. He walked to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. "Toris, look at me." Two emeralds met his, and Eduard's heart sank when he noticed that there was something broken in them. _This is all my fault._

"Toris, you're not a whore. You're the bravest nation I have ever met. I can't think of anyone else – to include myself – who would be strong enough to walk into the clutches of what they hate for the behalf of others. What you are doing isn't something to be taken lightly, and I apologize for saying those horrible things to you."

Toris looked away. Eduard waited for those words, would have done _anything_ to hear his brother say, '_I forgive you'._ But they never came.

"Thank you. And you're not heartless." Eduard froze. Toris looked up at him and smiled one of his kind smiles. "You care for Raivis more than I ever could. You had to care for me too, to come and try to protect me from Russia. Just because you don't cry every night, or smile as much as I do, doesn't mean you don't have a heart. It means you are strong."

Eduard's mind swam. Most of him didn't believe what Toris had just said, but it sounded amazing. He wanted to forgive him, but the words from the other night had burned a whole somewhere in his chest that couldn't be filled. Maybe that's why Toris didn't forgive him, either.

"Thank you, Toris." And then Eduard did something that he rarely did: He embraced his brother. It felt awkward at first, but then he felt a warmth begin to spread somewhere in his chest. And maybe, just maybe, that's where his heart was.

"I brought something." Toris whispered. Eduard let go, and was surprised when that something was slipped over his neck. It was a thin rope, like a necklace, with a heavy weight as the pendulum. Eduard picked up the object to look at it, and his eyes widened. It was a key.

Eduard stared. He stared at the key, then back at Toris. The key, then Toris again. At last he could get his mouth working.

"Toris."

"Yes?"

"What is this."

"Whatever you think it is."

His heartbeat quickened. "Where…where did you – "

He was interrupted by a thin finger placed over his mouth. "Shhhh. Don't use it until tonight when Russia's asleep; he's working here all day in his office."

It was as if two puzzle pieces had finally clicked together in the back of Eduard's mind. His eyes grew even wider as he gaped at his brother. So _that's_ why Toris had stayed in that hallway? But then – but then had he told him the truth about the sacrifice and the standing between Russia and his friends? If he was lying then that meant – Wait. What?!

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Eduard hissed, suddenly angry. It would have been so much easier!

"Because I couldn't force you to choose between me and Raivis. I had already made the decision, and telling you would only make things worse. You couldn't have saved us both, Eduard."

Eduard looked down at the key, and he suddenly realized the cost of his plan. It was high, much too high… "Toris, if you would have told me, I could have come up with something else."

At this, Toris laughed. It was a lighthearted sound that was like heaven to Eduard's ears. "I don't think so, Eduard. Just look at you, it's obvious you've been trying to think of something else for days!" His eyes shined and he smiled warmly. "No more of that, Eduard. Go easy on yourself, what is done is done." He turned and walked out of the study, stopping at the door to smile back over his shoulder.

"I'm going to make khvorost. Care to join me?"

Eduard looked back at the ominous stacks of paperwork on his desk. It could wait.

"Well we can't have khvorost without tea, now, can we?"

He and Toris made their way to the kitchen, Eduard marveling at the way his brother could remain so cheerful after such a horrific night. He fingered the brass key thumping beneath his uniform. Toris had told him not to think, but that was never going to happen.

_Now for a way to convince Prussia to help us… Germans like beer, right?_

**Translations: **

**Ty takaya krasivaya - You're so beautiful**

**Dobroye utro, ser - Good morning, sir**

**Sasibo - thank you**

**Jūs nieko nežinote nuodėmės... - You know nothing of sin...**

**khvorost: A Russian tea cake served with powdered sugar (I've never had one, but sounds good)**

**I know things can get a little confusing, and hopefully I'm doing a good job of explaining this huge twisty plot I have going here. When Toris is asking Russia for a meeting, he's doing what Eduard suggested; that is, to get Prussia out of the dungeon via meeting. But Russia seems a little confused at the moment...**

**I'm trying to end some chapters with a lighter mood so that you guys don't drown in horribleness. :) Virtual tea and khvorost for reviews! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**GUYS, I'M NOT DEAD! You may rejoice and drink vodka ^ ^**

**Sorry about that. In the time that I've been gone, I've reread ****Giving In ****(which you REALLY need to read if you haven't already), watched the entire anime and read the last half of the manga for Ouran, and learned how to pronounce the Russian alphabet. So...yeah I probably deserve a sound beating from Russia, da? But NEVER FEAR, I'm back! :D**

**This chap is in Raivis's P.O.V. I felt kind of bad for leaving him out in the story so...yeah. Enjoy! :)**

Raivis was scared.

His body was trembling so much that he could barely walk in a straight line, his breaths shallow and rapid. His heart fluttered furiously in his throat, his eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. At every little sound behind him he would jump in fright and glance back, a string of apologies just waiting to spill from his tongue.

But what was there to apologize about? He wasn't doing anything _wrong_…was he?

_Ne, I'm not._ He thought firmly, trying to convince himself. _I'm doing the right thing. The right thing!_

He had squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and lost his footing on the carpeted floor. The leather satchel he was dragging behind him jerked, emitting a suspicious clinking noise, like that of glass bottles jostling against each other. Raivis sucked in a breath, catching his balance and utterly freezing where he stood in the massive hallway. He listened for any sign of someone coming. There was no sound, and yet the silence seemed to press around him, creating chills that cascaded down his spine.

Raivis hated being alone. He hated the way he felt so small, even when there weren't other nations around. It seemed everything in the mansion towered over him – the doorways, the windows, ceilings, book shelves, portraits… He felt so _small._ His own home back in Riga was much more comfortable; almost cozy, with neat rooms filled with warm furniture and stuffed with books. The ceiling was low, and the living room was small enough so that he could feel the fire's heat from any chair in the room. It was… how to put it…

_Full._ Raivis thought, the memory of his own home giving him the courage to shoulder his satchel and continue his venture down the hallway. It was strange, how there were so many decorations and artifacts in Russia's house, and yet it had this sense of _emptiness_, as if the books and fireplaces were only a façade. The same façade, perhaps, that was plastered all over Soviet headlines. The same lie that rested in that cheerful smile Russia liked to wear. That voice he used, so unusually high-pitched and happy as if everything was _okay._

Raivis gritted his teeth. Everything was _not_ okay! Didn't Russia see that?! How was everything okay if his stomach constantly gnawed in hunger? If he couldn't even speak his own language, or have any contact with his people, or control anything that happened to them? How was everything okay, if his life here was so horrid that the only way to escape it was to get drunk –

_Nē! _This time Raivis stopped to put his head in his trembling hands, his fingers curling desperately around messy locks of hair. He nearly groaned in frustration, fighting an inner war within himself. _No, no more alcohol! It's not worth it, not after what Russia did! Whatever it was…I know he did _something_ to me…he had to…right?_

And that was what scared Raivis most of all.

He had _no idea _what had happened two nights ago. The uncertainty of it – _not knowing_ – was more terrifying to Raivis than any form of torture he'd had to endure. Instead of having the facts - those comforting thoughts of, _He only hit me once, _or, _There wasn't so much blood this time_ -whatever had taken place that night was entirely left up to Raivis's imagination.

Raivis _really _hated his imagination right now.

What made things even more confusing was the fact that he was truly unhurt. Raivis himself had examined every inch of his body in search of a wound or mark of some sort…but there was nothing. His muscles were no more sore than usual. It was as if Russia….

_It was as if Russia hadn't touched a hair on his head._

"Atbaidošs kā sūdi ..." Raivis whispered under his breath, hugging himself as he stepped into the room he had been looking for.

It was one of the extra dining rooms; only used when special guests arrived at the mansion. A grand mahogany table stretched from one end to the other, its finished surface gleaming in the light of the windows. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, throwing miniature rainbows and light patches onto the velvet red walls. What stood out most in the room were the large windows that ran along its length, stretching nearly from floor to ceiling. Unlike most of the other windows in the mansion, these had no drapes, therefore allowing the blinding glare of sunlight on snow to flood into the room. Raivis could easily see the hazy skyline of Moscow, tucked away in a sea of white.

He glanced behind him once more to make sure he was not being followed, before slinking around the table and next to one of the windowsills. He was met with a startling flash of vibrant yellow and green. Placed ever so carefully along the windowsills bloomed a marvelous collection of sunflowers. Almost every type from every corner of the globe was arching their petals to the sun, broad leaves casting dappled shadows across the floor.

It was a beautiful spectacle, but one that Raivis was much too nervous to appreciate at the moment. He placed his satchel on the ground with a faint clink, before throwing open the flap and reaching in to pull out a glass bottle. It was slightly battered, with some tear on the label and covered in a fine layer of dust. The liquid inside glowed a warm golden color, white foam bubbling at the surface.

Raivis stared longingly at the beer, recalling the fiery sensation of alcohol sliding down his throat…

_Gah, what am I thinking?!_ He shook his head violently, pulling a bottle opener from his pocket and prying off the lid with a short hiss. He couldn't help but lick his lips as the scent of his favorite drink reached his nostrils. _Maybe just one sip…._

_Here, Malen'kaya Latvia, have some vodka! You only have to start with one sip, da?_

Raivis let out a small yelp, glancing back to make sure that sickeningly cheerful voice had been inside of his head. Thankfully there was not a giant grinning Russian behind him, and he let out a shaky breath. He looked again at the beer in his hand, but this time with a glint of determination in those violet eyes.

"Sorry, but I have to do this," he whispered (NOT to the beer, that was just stupid, he was most definitely talking to _himself_) before crawling over to one of the larger pots. Taking one last huff of resolve, Raivis slowly tipped the bottle so that golden liquid began to guzzle out of the neck and run into the soil. His heart ached at the sight of it – all that beautiful alcohol that he had been so careful to hide, was being wasted… Raivis turned his head away, determined not to change his mind. He _needed _to do this. It was the right thing, and Eduard was always telling him to do the right thing. _At least he doesn't know I have all of this beer_. Raivis thought, dreading his brother's reaction if he were to discover his illegal stash.

The splashing ceased and Raivis knew that the bottle was now empty. He shook the last drops of alcohol into the pot before crawling back to his satchel and setting the evidence inside. A moment later Raivis had pulled another bottle out, popped the lid, and repeated the process. There were at least a dozen beers, and it was imperative that he got rid of them as quickly as possible without anyone knowing. He was on this fourth bottle, and so far everything had gone smoothly. Gripping the bottle-opener, Raivis set it carefully beneath the cap and –

"What are you doing?"

Raivis's blood ran cold and he froze, jerking his head up to meet a pair of teal eyes.

_Sūdi._

How had Eduard sneaked up on him? How did he not hear footsteps coming from the hallway?! Raivis was in such a state of panic that he didn't even try to hide the bottle of beer that was clearly in sight of the Estonian. _That he was about to open._ As usual, it didn't take Eduard very long to access the situation. His eyes widened in surprise, his voice equally astonished.

"Raivis…Where did you get that?"

It was pointless to lie. "P-Prague,"

Eduard raised an eyebrow. Raivis knew that his brother was incredibly smart. It would only take a few moments for him to figure out that he'd bought the beer illegally during their last business trip to Czechoslovakia. _I'm dead, I'm so dead, he's going to kill me for this!_

"Is it still good?"

Raivis's mouth fell open at the unexpected question. _What did he just say?_ He stared wide-eyed at his brother, who continued to look on with genuine expectation of an answer. Why wasn't Eduard yelling? Was he feeling well?

"I – um…yes?" At this point Raivis thought it impossible for Eduard to confuse him more, but he was wrong.

"That's fantastic!" Eduard was beaming from ear-to-ear, an expression so rare that Raivis wondered if he was drunk. Or maybe this was all a dream. He pinched himself, hard.

"Raivis, how many more bottles do you have in that bag of yours?" Eduard was actually _excited _now, striding over to Raivis who still sat stunned on the floor. Not waiting for an answer, the Estonian knelt down and pulled out two bottles, reading the labels with serious concentration. "It's not German, but it'll have to do…" he muttered, confusing Raivis even more. Why did Eduard have a sudden fascination with beer? The only time he ever got this excited was when he was up to something…

"Is this another one of your escape plans?" Raivis blurted. Oh crap, why did he say that?! Now Eduard was _really_ going to get mad at him!

Those piercing teal eyes turned on him, but he was surprised at the hint of a smile resting on his brother's lips. "I suppose you could say that." Raivis opened his mouth to ask more, but Eduard silenced him with a finger to his lips. "I can't answer your questions just yet. But if I were you, Raivis, I would be taking advantage of the fact that I have yet to inquire as to _why _you are sitting here surrounded by dozens of beer bottles. It would greatly benefit you to remain silent."

Raivis clamped his mouth firmly shut. He hated when Eduard stated the obvious like that; it made him feel like an incompetent child. Eduard seemed to sense his frustration, because his voice became softer and his speech more casual.

"Listen. I know this beer is special to you, but I need to use it for something important. I'll pay you back, okay?" Raivis was so relieved at his brothers' good mood that he didn't care if he'd get his money back or not. Considering he was about to dump it all anyways, this was actually a great deal. No, Raivis was much more interested in _why _Eduard needed the beer in the first place.

"Okay," He answered, biting back his tongue to keep himself from asking more questions.

Without a moment's hesitation, Eduard lifted up the bag and slung it professionally around his shoulder. He looked down on Raivis for a moment, holding out his hands with a stern gaze. Raivis blinked before realizing what he was asking. He hurriedly placed the beer and bottle opener into his brother's hands, a deep blush crossing his face for being found out like this.

"Thank you, Raivis." Eduard turned to walk away, but before he left the room Raivis stopped him.

"Eduard, wait!"

The Estonian turned around, his sharp gaze causing Raivis to fidget.

"Don't – Don't drink it, okay?"

Eduard's eyes widened in surprise. "Raivis…"

"I just don't want you to end up like me! Please… just… d-don't drink it…" He could feel hot tears brimming at the corner of his eyes. Raivis hated that he cried so easily; it was so embarrassing.

At first Eduard seemed shocked, then his eyes softened and he smiled warmly. "I would never dream of doing such a thing. I know this wasn't your fault, Raivis, so don't be so hard on yourself. We're going to get to the bottom of this. I promise."

Raivis's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean this isn't an escape –"

"Shhh," Eduard once again placed a finger to his lips, his smile turning mischievous. "In time, Raivis. In time." With that, he turned on his heels and walked casually from the room, as if nothing of consequence had occurred at all.

Raivis stared at the spot where his brother had stood. Did that really just happen? He blinked the tears out of his eyes, wiping them with the back of his hand. Raivis loved Eduard, and considered him an older brother even if they weren't blood related. The Estonian had always looked out for him, comforted him, and protected him. Sometimes Raivis felt that without Eduard, he might not even be a nation anymore. But sometimes…

_Sometimes he just confuses me. _

Raivis sighed, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. It amazed him how he and Eduard were so vastly different. Raivis was basically an open book – if he was thinking something, it usually came out of his mouth. It had gotten him into trouble with Russia countless times, but it also meant that Eduard knew pretty much everything about him. He had very few secrets to speak of. Eduard, on the other hand, was so reserved that often it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. And it bothered Raivis, because he knew that the Estonian was _always thinking_, always calculating or planning or profiling… And most of it remained a mystery. Raivis had wondered countless times what it would be like to step into that complex mind of Eduard's, to see the vast storage of knowledge and philosophy. But, in the end, Raivis had learned to accept that it would only confuse him.

_Oh Eduard. _He thought, smiling to himself. _What tricks do you have up your sleeve this time?_

**Translations:**

**Atbaidošs kā sūdi - Scary as sh*t**

**Gee, this is taking longer than I thought. I've noticed that my chapters are pretty short. If you would like them to be longer, drop a line! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**I have a present for you guys! This chapter is…get ready for it… almost 6,000 words! Woo-hooo!**

**My family just moved halfway across the country, so I've been working on this in between camps and driving and hotels and BLAAH. Just as a fun fact, part of this chapter was written in Hellen Keller's front yard. (If you don't know who Hellen Keller is, look it up.) But we've moved into our new home and today I leave for my vacation to LONDON! Woot-woot! :D **

**Ahem. Well I won't have wifi for a while, so I wanted to get this up for you guys before I leave. **

**THIS IS IMPORTANT. THE ITALIC QUOTATIONS ARE ACTUALLY GERMAN. Eduard can't understand what Prussia is saying but I wanted you guys to know. Because Prussia is just that awesome :) **

**WARNING: PRUSSIA WILL SEEM VERY OOC. But I think we would all be if we had been locked up in a dungeon for 20 years, yes? **

**So without further ado, I give you Chapter 10! Enjoy!**

_~Privyet, Russki~_

Cold air seemed too creep into the mansion from under the doors, the cracks in the windows, the mist of snow particles slithering up the walls and racing in from every direction. Outside the wind shrieked angrily, tearing through the trees and hurling snow into a stinging jet stream. All lights in the mansion flickered off, plunging its inhabitants into darkness. Someone screamed and there was a loud shatter, then the sound of muffled yelling and the slam of a door.

"Raivis!" Eduard and Toris ran out into the hall where the Latvian sat crouched on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chin. Shards of porcelain lay scattered at his feet, a dark pool of tea spreading across the floor.

"Raivis, are you okay?"

"J-jā…" his voice was small. "Just surprised. I hate it when he does that."

"We all do," Toris's breath was visible in the frigid air of the mansion. He crouched down, putting a hand on Raivis's cold cheeks. "Come on, it's warmer in our room. He'll leave soon." Raivis took his brother's hand and shakily stood, hugging himself for warmth as they walked into their bedroom. As Toris wrapped Raivis in a cocoon of blankets, Eduard stood by the door and listened to the echoes of a misty voice floating from upstairs.

General Winter was back.

_And that means Russia will be in a worse mood than usual._

Eduard frowned. As much as he despised the season spirit "popping in" for a visit, he should be thanking the General. After all, with all this wind it would be impossible for Russia to hear him sneaking into the dungeon. _But now Prussia's dinner is cold._ He let out a misty sigh. Oh well, at least the beer would be the right temperature.

"Are you just gonna stand there and freeze to death?"

Eduard turned around to send Raivis an irritated glare. "A little cold won't hurt me. But, if it bothers you…" He walked over to join the small huddle, pulling up his knees and wrapping an arm around his little brother.

"Russia is angry," Raivis whispered. Eduard glanced up at Toris, who seemed to be listening intently to the muffled shouts coming from upstairs. His brow was furrowed in an expression of concern. Eduard found himself wondering for the thousandth time why on _earth _Toris would care about that mad man…

"He'll get over it." Was Eduard's blunt answer. Raivis huffed and snuggled closer.

It was difficult to tell how much time had passed. Ice crystals had begun to form on the rims of Eduard's glasses and their blankets were encrusted in frost. At last there was a deep whoosh and the sound of a door flying open. Icy fingers of wind clawed through Eduard's hair, and a horrible chill rand down his spine as General Winter flew down the stairs. The door banged on the wall as the wind ripped through the house. Raivis let out another squeal, his grip tightening on Eduard's shirt.

_~Pozhaluysta~_

The ethereal voice was a haunting moan, a sound of wind and scraping ice particles that no human or nation could emit. It carried with the gusts so that it sounded as though the Season himself was right in front of them. There was a howling laughter that rattled the windows, and at last the front door slammed shut and the house was eerily still.

There was a long moment of silence as the three nations waited for the chill to subside. Eduard calmly removed his glasses, blowing hot air onto them so as to melt the ice.

"Jerk," Raivis muttered, breaking the stillness. "Why does he have to come in like that; it just makes Russia mad!"

"I think that's the point." Eduard slipped his glasses back on, turning to look Raivis in the eye. "And now would be a good time to clean that mess in the hall, jah?"

"Oh, sūdi!" Raivis hopped off the bed, running into the kitchen to fetch a dust broom. Eduard listened to the patter of footsteps fading down the hall, calmly watching Toris from the bedside. The Lithuanian's head hung low as he stared worriedly into his lap, chapped lips pressed into a concerned frown.

"You're not worried about Russia, are you?"

Dull emeralds shot up and Toris's red cheeks became even redder. "N-ne, of course not. I was only thinking of Siberia..."

Eduard felt a pit of dread form in his stomach. He knew if General Winter was too harsh on Russia, that the prisons in Siberia would be much too cold for his people to survive. It seemed that all of the Soviet Republics were at the mercy of Winter, absolutely helpless as their people starved and froze to death in the Gulags. _Of course it's really Russia's fault._ But as Toris was likely to disagree, Eduard thought it best to change the subject.

"Prussia's meal is under my bed, correct?"

Eduard was surprised when Toris visibly winced, his expression turning annoyed. "Yes," He growled between clenched teeth. "I considered poisoning it."

Eduard stared at his brother. Where was this coming from? Not a moment ago Toris had been kind and thoughtful, probably fawning over Russia _again, _and all it had taken was the mention of Prussia and he seemed to plummet into resentment. Eduard hadn't even thought that _possible_; Toris was always so laid back. _Maybe it's just one of those things._ All nations had touchy subjects, certain places or events that pushed buttons and brought memories they would rather forget. Was it possible, perhaps, that Prussia himself represented such memories for Toris? _But Toris is usually so forgiving, it's strange that he would hold this one grudge while he lets go of the others. What makes Prussia different?_ Eduard frowned, feeling his train of thought reaching a dead end. _Well I suppose I'll find out._

"Eduard, I would appreciate if you didn't stare at me, it makes me feel like a museum exhibit."

Eduard blinked, realizing he had been staring at his brother for some time now. Toris was smiling, but it was only a mask to hide the irritation that still burned in his eyes. The resulting expression was eerily similar to one of Russia's fake smiles.

"Sorry…" Eduard muttered, averting his gaze to the floor.

Just then Raivis walked in, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere. "I hope Russia didn't hear that shatter…" He thought aloud, (But when did Raivis NOT think aloud?) dumping the shards into a trash can. "He'd kill me if he found out I'd broken _another _tea cup."

_Not as much as he would kill _me_ if he found out I had visited Prussia… _Eduard felt his stomach squirm. What had he gotten himself _into?_

The springs in the mattress creaked as Raivis climbed up onto the bed. "Are you guys gonna sleep in my bed tonight?" He smirked. "I didn't know it was _that _cold."

"No, we're not." Both Eduard and Toris stood and made their way to their own beds. Pulling back the covers, Eduard was dismayed to find that they were cold and damp from the melted frost. Oh well, at least he wouldn't have to stay here for very long. Mattresses creaked at the three Baltics settled into their beds, Eduard reaching over to place his glasses on the side-table.

"Ar labu nakti," Raivis whispered.

"Head ööd," Eduard whispered back.

There was a long stretch of silence as they waited for the soft, _Labanakt_ that often wished them goodnight. But although Eduard could hear slow breathing, the bed where Toris lay remained utterly silent.

~/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/~

Haunting moans creaked from the mansion; high-pitched whistles streaming through the windows as the blizzard raged. Eduard stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to sleep through the racket and almost suffocating in Raivis's terrified grip. The boy was asleep, but his eyelids twitched and his breathing was irregular, small whimpers escaping every few minutes. Eduard had been less than pleased when the Latvian had climbed into bed next to him, lacing his arms around his waist in a grip he feared would leave bruises.

_Not tonight Raivis! Go sleep with Toris!_

_But Toris is in a bad mood! _

_Just make a cute face and pretend to cry, he'll soften up. _

_Why can't I sleep with you? And if I start crying will you let me stay?_

_No!_

Obviously his attempts to get rid of Raivis had miserably failed. Eduard sighed, causing a tuft of blond hair to tickle the underside of his nose. _He couldn't move._ Great_. _How was he supposed to sneak into the dungeon? He tilted his head to the side, squinting at the clock on the side table. Midnight. He needed to leave _now._

Deciding it was worth it to take his chances, Eduard slowly began prying Raivis's fingers apart. They were surprisingly cold, but limp as he folded Raivis's hands together and pushed him to the edge of the bed. It was only a twin size, but it was enough room so that at least he could breathe properly. Eduard carefully sat up, moving the Latvian's leg off of him so that he could slide out of the covers. There was a slight moan and he froze. Raivis's eyebrows scrunched together and he curled into a ball, but thankfully those violet eyes remained firmly shut. Eduard let out a slow breath of relief, sliding his legs off of the bed. The chill of the cement floor tingled in his toes as he walked to the dresser. (If there was one thing Eduard was sure of, it was that Prussia would never take him seriously if he was dressed in a pair of flannels and a night shirt.) After some hissing from the cold and hopping on one foot to pull on his boots, Eduard tiptoed to the side-table and slipped on his glasses.

_Now for the food._

He crouched down on his hands and knees, spotting a plate hidden beneath his bed. He reached in and carefully slid it out, along with the satchel of beer he had hidden earlier. Eduard raised an eyebrow at the pile of potato salad and sour kraut beside two juicy sausages. _I didn't know you could cook German. Well done, Toris._ Eduard put a hand to his chest, feeling the small lump where the key still rested.

He was ready.

Eduard glanced back at the two sleeping forms, specifically the smaller one. He sincerely hoped that he would live to see them tomorrow morning, but just in case…

"Ma armastan sind," He whispered, placing a soft kiss on the top of Raivis's head. "Try to stay out of trouble, okay?" And with that, he turned and quietly opened the door, stepping out into the shadowy maze of Russia's mansion.

The blizzard continued to roar outside, drowning out any noise that Eduard would have made as he tiptoed through the dark halls. The location of the entrance to Russia's dungeon – or "fun room" as he liked to call it – was no secret to the Baltics. Eduard himself remembered being dragged down there several times in the past, his wrists clamped in chains, his knees aching as he was thrown down onto cold cement and ordered to bend over for his "punishment". Toris may have received the most beatings, but he was not the only one.

Eduard shuddered, hugging himself in the chilly air. He had never thought that he would _willingly _visit the dungeon, not in a million years…. As he rounded a corner and squinted into the darkness, he could make out the dark rectangular shadow of a door. As Eduard neared it he felt more and more unsure about this. How long had it been since he had even seen the dungeon? How long had it been since he had seen _Prussia?_ Had it been months? Years? And then Eduard was struck by a troubling realization.

_Is Prussia…dead?_

He very well could be. The albino wasn't even a nation anymore. Even if he _was_ alive, decades of imprisonment had surely driven away what little sanity he had. And being a relatively new addition to Russia's "family", Prussia might not even speak Russian.

_What on earth possessed me to think that this was a good idea? _ Eduard internally moaned, but forced himself to continue walking towards the door. Standing before it, he felt as though he was on the border between safety and sadism, heaven and hell, sanity and dementia. He swallowed thickly, reaching inside his pocket to produce a small flashlight. He clenched the metal between his teeth as he pulled out the key, his fingers trembling as he inserted it into the key hole.

_Don't do it!_ The voice of logic screamed. _You're being impulsive. Stop and think this through._

"I'm doing this for Raivis." He whispered, his voice inaudible among the eerie howls of Winter. "Raivis, my little brother," He repeated, then sharply turned the key to the right. A dull clunk resounded from inside of the door. Eduard had to suppress a yelp when it began to swing open all on its own.

_Creeeeaaakk._

Eduard's first thought was to be thankful for the blizzard, otherwise Russia would have heard that. But whatever was on his mind was blasted away by a smell that slammed into him like a brick wall. It was the stench of decade's worth of mold, rot, and the distinct metallic scent of dried blood. Eduard clapped his hand over his nose and mouth, taking reluctant breaths through his fingers. The darkness beyond the open door was thicker and almost _tangible_…not to mention the stink would only get worse…

_Just turn around. You don't have to go down there, it illogical, the consequences are much too great. _

"For Raivis," Eduard whispered again, through his fingers. He took a deep breath, threw back his shoulders, and took a decisive step into the blackness. He could feel his eyes widen, struggling to adjust to the dark, but what little he could see disappeared when he reached behind him and shut the door with a metallic clang.

God, it smelled awful.

Eduard tucked the key safely back under his shirt, taking the small flashlight out of his mouth to shine it in front of him. The tiny ring of light revealed a series of stone steps that led deeper into the dungeon. They were cracked and worn from hundreds of years of use. Eduard winced when he realized there were dark stains splattered onto the stone. It had the appearance of rust, but he knew better.

Tightening his hand over his mouth, he began the descent into the gloom. His footsteps echoed with whispery clunks that bounced off the stone walls. The air around him seemed to grow thicker with each step, the stench becoming so unbearable that Eduard began to gag halfway down the stairs. He hurried the rest of the way down just in time to vomit onto the dungeon floor. _This is so humiliating. Nations are supposed to have stronger stomachs than this…_ Now not only did it smell horrid, but his throat burned with stomach acid. Eduard wiped the bile off of his chin with a sleeve. _Disgusting._

After recovering from that bit of trauma, he stood up and scanned the area with the flashlight. Eduard's blood ran cold when it glinted off of rows and rows of weapons – knives, swords, lances, maces, whips… Entire racks were set up for all of Russia's "toys" to be displayed. The flashlight casted looming shadows on the stone wall behind them, the blades ten times their normal size. All of a sudden the light vanished, plunging Eduard into complete darkness as something clattered at his feet.

_Sitt!_ How had he dropped the flashlight? Was he shaking that badly? He crouched down to pick it up, but froze when he heard something.

Someone was _laughing._

It wasn't loud boisterous laughter, but a sinister chuckling that echoed and flitted around him.

_"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" _A voice rasped, causing Eduard to physically jump. He sat crouched, hand hovering over the flashlight, ears strained for more sound. But there was nothing. Had he imagined it? Deciding he must have, he picked up the flashlight and shined it low enough so that the knives didn't…_glint._ Eduard knew that Prussia would be in the back of the dungeon. This meant that he would have to walk past Russia's collection of torture devices, and that was definitely something he was _not _looking forward to.

_Just find Prussia, and all of this will be over._ He thought to himself, keeping his eyes firmly on the floor. It took a few moments for his legs to get the message that he was _walking_ now, but at last he began to move forward. It wasn't long before Eduard realized that looking at the floor wasn't such a good idea. There were so many layers of dried blood that some of it had begun to flake and crunch beneath his boots. Feeling the need to throw up again, he adjusted the flashlight to shine in front of him instead. The far wall was mostly bare, with a few extra weapon racks and a mural of rusty red stains_. But where is Prussia?_ Eduard decided to go with a simple method.

"Prussiya?"

The only answer was the haunting echoes of his own voice. _Oh, duh, he doesn't speak Russian!_ Eduard wanted to slap himself.

"Prussia? Preußen?"

For a moment there was no answer, but then he heard the name repeated in a whisper so soft that it was but a breath.

"Preußen…"

There was a slight clinking, the sound of chains bumping against each other. Eduard felt his neck prickle with the sensation of being watched. He strained his ears for a more specific answer, but heard none. He tried again.

"Wo bist du, Preußen?"

The voice that answered him was quite frightening. It was a strained rasp, almost like rocks grinding together. _"Where am I? I am nowhere. Where is Prussia? What's Prussia? I don't know. God, I just don't know anymore…"_

Eduard frowned at the grainy stream of German that he couldn't understand. He spoke so little German that it would be best to switch to English.

"Es tut mir leid, aber mein Deutsch ist nicht sehr gut. Sprechen Sie Englisch?"

_"English? The language of the ENEMY… They bombed my brother, they nearly killed him…wrapped him in chains and handed him as a PACKAGE to the Snow Bastard… Displayed him like some sort of CRIMINAL for all to laugh and spit at… Nein, their language is the language of RATS, the burbles of sewage in the streets that reeks of self-righteousness and cheap hamburgers. Capitalist dogs, they disgust me."_

The voice continued to hiss, chains clinking as it grew nearer to where Eduard stood. He wheeled around, shining the flashlight but seeing nothing. He could feel beads of sweat collecting on the back of his neck. Maybe if Prussia knew he had brought food then he would cooperate and switch to English.

"Ich habe eine Speise." He called into the darkness, holding up the plate. Hearing no answer, he added, "Deutsch Essen."

Suddenly the rambling stopped. There was an excruciating moment of silence as Eduard stood there, completely vulnerable.

_ "You cannot kill what is already dead."_

"I'm sorry, but my German isn't very good. Could you please speak English so I can understand you?"

_"You cannot kill what is already DEAD."_ It was a whisper this time, one that Eduard found particularly disturbing. Was the voice getting closer? _"But you can kill what's still alive…You are alive. I could kill _you_…"_

Eduard's blood ran cold. He understood one word out of all of that, and it was the word for _kill._ There was a violent rattling of chains, then something cold grabbed his left hand and yanked him down. Eduard cried out as he lost his balance, the plate falling to the floor with a deafening shatter. His butt hit the stone ground and a hand forced his back to the filthy surface. Something cold and metallic was pressed to Eduard's neck, a sharp tip that could rip open his throat with the flick of a wrist. Eduard froze, staring in horror into the dark face that he couldn't quite make out without his flashlight. His chest rose and fell, but that hand was still pressed firmly against it, keeping him pinned to the floor.

_"Who _is_ this? He speaks the language of my enemies yet he reeks of that Austrian prick."_

Eduard had to prevent himself from gagging at the horrid breath that spilled over his nostrils. "I'm Estonia," He said in a very small voice, wincing when his throat scraped against the knife blade. "I'm here to help you. P-please don't kill me."

The knife pressed deeper into his neck. _"You cannot kill what is already dead. But this one is still warm…" _Eduard yelped in surprise when cold fingers pressed into the skin of his cheeks. _"It must be nice, to be alive."_

"I-I-I brought food," Eduard stammered, his heart beating a mile a minute. "A-a-and beer! I've brought dozens of beer bottles, and you can have all of it!"

There was a pause, and at last the knife was pulled back so that Eduard could breathe. _"Beer? This tea-sipping sap has beer?" _Prussia leaned forward and hissed, "_Where is it?"_ Eduard cringed when spittle sprayed onto his face, but for once Prussia had asked a simple question that he could understand.

"I-In the leather satchel. If you let me go I can get it for y-" He was cut off when a boot landed square on his chest, pushing all of the air out of his lungs. Fabric shifted as Prussia reached for the satchel next to him, glass clinking softly as he pulled a bottle out. There was a slight hiss as he popped the lid, then a series of loud gulps. Prussia drank for a long time. It reminded Eduard of how Russia could down an entire bottle of vodka in a minute - a trait he was not very fond of. At last the gulping stopped.

_"Tastes like shit."_ There was a glass shatter, and Eduard knew that Prussia had thrown the bottle across the dungeon. _"But I'm used to shit." _There was a long period of silence. Eduard could feel two eyes boring into him. "_Why are you here?"_

"I already told you, I can't speak German – "

"Then I have to reason to let you live." Eduard froze. Prussia's English was much clearer than his, and it had a biting tone to it that made it just as terrifying as his German. Eduard could feel the panic rise up in his chest again, but this time he chose to ignore it. There was only one way he was going to get out of this situation, and that was wit.

"Yes you do." He said, surprised at how calm his voice was. "In fact I do believe you have a _very_ good reason to keep me alive."

Prussia let out a strange hissing sound. "You've got beer! That's good enough reason for me! Although he is so pathetic, nobody would come to his funeral if I killed him…"

Eduard gulped. There was something very odd about the way Prussia referred to him in third person, almost as though he were talking to himself. Eduard wasn't looking forward to negotiating with a complete lunatic, but he would try.

"I can get you out of here."

The hissing, again. This time Eduard realized that it was a form of laughter_._ "Kesesesesese! You think you can get me out? There is a rule, it is the golden rule: Nobody gets out. Nobody! Not even the flying squirrels. Tragic."

It took a moment for Eduard to process what Prussia had just said. _Flying…squirrels?_ This was even worse than he thought.

"That may be true, but I have the key."

"Ooh, the _keeeey."_ Prussia repeated in reverence, drawing out the last word in what sounded like sarcasm. "So he thinks he's so clever as to steal it from the Snow Bastard?" He chuckled. "Tell me, Tea Boy…" The blade of the knife tickled over Eduard's neck. "How many times did you have to fuck for him to give it to you?"

At first Eduard was completely shocked at the question, but then a pure horror and hatred burned inside of him. How _dare _Prussia make fun of what Toris had to go through? How _dare _him bring it up as if it was no big deal! "That is none of your concern," He growled through clenched teeth. "What I am trying to tell you is that if you keep me _alive_, then you have a chance of escaping this God-forsaken dungeon."

Suddenly Prussia's voice grew thick and dark, leaning forward so that his vile breath filled Eduard's lungs. "You do not know the _meaning_ of God-forsaken." He hissed. "A place so wretched, so horrid and agonizing that God himself does not _dare_ go there…A place where nobody – _Nobody _– gets out alive." His hand had tightened around the collar of Eduard's shirt, knife pressing hard enough into the skin that droplets of blood began to trickle down his neck. "Not even the flying _squirrels._" Prussia added dramatically, as if that was the most terrifying factor of all.

Eduard could see that this was getting nowhere. He had come down here to make negotiations with an ex-nation, not to be pinned down and spat on by a psycho. "I am dreadfully sorry about your…_squirrels._ But if you would get off of me and put that ridiculous knife away, then we could talk this over like nations. If you agree to my terms, you can have all of the beer that you want."

"Put that ridiculous knife away!" Prussia mocked, his voice high-pitched and scratchy. "We need to talk this over like nations! Oh, pip-pip and cheerio! Put it away! You'll take somebody's eye out! Well that wouldn't make a difference because it's so damn dark in here, anyway…" Somehow in the midst of all this, Prussia_ did_ remove the knife from Eduard's neck, and with a rattling of chains he slunk off to crouch on the floor a few feet away. Eduard sat up and squinted into the dark, trying to make out any facial features of the man in front of him. The blackness was so thick that even after all of this time he could barely see the general form of Prussia, who seemed to be picking bits of mashed potatoes off of the floor. And eating them. Eduard shuddered.

"I've come here to ask for your help. My brothers and I live in this mansion under Russia's control, and lately he has taken to tormenting the youngest of us, Latvia. I had been sure he was using torture, but there were no marks on Latvia's body."

"Raaaape," Prussia sang. "It's the Snow Bastard's hobby, I should know."

Eduard felt the need to throw up again, trying to shake the horrid images from his head. "No, not rape," he managed to say, after swallowing the bit of bile that had found its way into his throat. "There would have been bruises."

"Mmm, oh yeah. Lots of bruises." Prussia's words were muffled, as he was busy wolfing down the sausages.

Eduard coughed awkwardly, deciding it would be best to pretend he hadn't heard. "The only way for me to find out what Russia is doing to Latvia is to sneak out of our room without him noticing. This requires a decoy. This is where you come in."

There was a loud gulp as Prussia finished the sausage. "Look, kid. I'm not going to pretend to be _you._ You remind me of somebody I don't like. And besides, you smell like…_tea."_ Prussia spat out the word as if it insulted his manliness.

"But don't you want to get out of here?" Eduard asked, disbelieving at Prussia's refusal.

Prussia scoffed. "_What?_ You don't like my house? I am _offended!_ I had just put some cookies in the oven, too…What a shame." Eduard was thoroughly confused. Was Prussia really this insane, or was he just making fun of him?

"Prussia, listen to me. If you agree to help us then you will get a bath, you will get real food and you will get to see sunlight for the first time in years."

"Look, if you don't want my cookies then I'll just have to kill you. Wait…then I'd get the key _and_ the beer!" A mad cackle echoed around them. Chains rattled again, and Eduard squinted to see the form of Prussia crawling towards him. "Come here, puppy puppy…niiiice puppy… Don't worry, I won't slice your neck open, oh no, I would _never _do that…."

Eduard scrambled backward on the ground, groping around for some kind of weapon or flashlight or _anything_ to put between him and this mad man. His hands brushed over grime, but he found nothing. At last the panic that had been fluttering in the back of his head completely took over.

"Y-you can't kill me!" He cried. "Nations can't die!"

Suddenly Prussia stopped in his tracks. "Man kann nichts mehr töten, was schon vorher tot ist." The words were a soft whisper, but for some reason they seemed even more demented than before.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't understand you,"

"Man kann nichts mehr töten, was schon vorher tot ist!" Prussia hissed. "It means you cannot kill what is already dead. Like me. I've been dead for decades, ever since those damned allies decided to dissolve my country. Ever since then I've kind of just been…here. Dead, but alive. Snow Bastard has been trying to kill me ever since he brought me into this damned dungeon, but it won't work. You cannot kill what is already dead."

Eduard frowned, trying to make sense of Prussia's words. They sounded like a riddle, but somehow they didn't seem quite as unhinged as his previous babbling. Perhaps Prussia was actually trying to tell him something? _Prussia thinks he is no longer a nation… _"But you are the representation of East Germany, are you not?" He asked.

There was a pause. "East…Germany? _He speaks of my brother, how dare he… But the East? What is.. East. West. Wall. There was a wall…Ludwig is on the west side, I'm on the…_Oh!" Prussia made an exclamation as if he had just solved a great mystery. "Ja ja, that's me."

There was something worrying about the way Prussia had to struggle to recall his own _country_. Had he really been down here for that long? What had Russia done to make him forget his own people? "Well then if you are East Germany then you are not dead. There are still millions of people that you represent."

Prussia let out a humorless laugh. "People? Just because they are German, doesn't make them _mine_. All of _my_ people are long gone. There might be a few who remember the Great Prussia, but in the end, I'm nothing but a name in the history books."

Eduard frowned. Was this really Prussia that he was speaking to? Even if he _was_ insane, wasn't he always known for his pride, his obsession with being 'Awesome'? Come to think of it, in this entire time Eduard hadn't heard Prussia speak the word even once. Was it possible that Prussia had been locked in here so long that he had lost his connection to his people? Eduard felt sick. It didn't matter what horrible things Prussia had done, no nation deserved such unbearable punishment as to be separated from who they represented.

"You're wrong." He said, his voice surprisingly strong. "If you were 'dead', as you say, then you would have vanished years ago. All of us have wondered why you haven't, but there has to be a reason. And that reason is your _people._ They exist. They have a fiery passion for their nation; they haven't forgotten you. And you mustn't forget them." Eduard waited for Prussia to respond. After a long period of silence, there was a whisper.

"I don't…I don't feel anything…"

So it was true. Whatever Russia had done to Prussia in this dungeon, whatever horrors he had drilled into his brain and his body, it had broken him. Eduard felt his hate for his master boil inside of him. How could Russia do such a thing?

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "But even if you can't feel them, that doesn't change the fact that there are millions who long for freedom. You can't just abandon them and stay down here forever."

Prussia didn't answer. After a long period of nerve-racking silence, Eduard took the opportunity to stand, slinging the satchel of beer around his shoulder. His vision had adjusted enough so that he could at least find his way back up the stairs. "If you agree to help then Russia will bring you out of here in a few days."

"Nein!" Prussia shrieked, lunging forward and clutching onto Eduard's legs. "Not him! I hate him! I'll kill him! I'll rip out his fingers one by one and make him eat them! I'll crush his tongue with pliers!" He began clawing at Eduard's pant leg, ripping the fabric and causing Eduard to stagger backwards in an attempt to throw him off. "HE'LL PAY!" Prussia screamed. "I'll make him wish he was never born! I'll create a hell so horrid he wishes he were DEAD!"

"It's the only way to get you out!" Eduard yelled, once again thankful for the blizzard. "It's the only way, Prussia! Now do you agree or do you not?"

The scratching and screaming came to an abrupt halt. Eduard waited patiently for an answer.

"Do you smell that?" Prussia asked.

Eduard wanted to crack a smart remark about how the entire dungeon reeked of blood, but he was much too frustrated. Why wouldn't Prussia just _answer his question? _"Smell what?"

"I think the cookies are done!"

_What!? _Before Eduard could respond, Prussia had scampered off to shove a handful of sour kraut in his mouth. "Mm, chocolate lebkuchen*, my favorite."

_Are you kidding me!?_ Eduard wanted to pull his hair out. Did Prussia not hear _anything_ he had just said? Had all of his efforts been for _nothing?_ This was too much. Eduard scowled and turned around, marching with his fists clenched towards the stairs. Great. Just _Great._ Now he would have to plan this all over again, with the headaches and the nightmares and poor Toris would have done that for nothing…

"Hey, Tea Boy!"

He looked back. He was too far away to see, but Prussia called out, "What you said about my people - I'm not going to abandon them."

Eduard's hopes lifted. "Does that mean you agree?"

"Kesesesese!" That hissing cackle bounced off the walls, filling the entire dungeon with demented laughter. Eduard was so confused. What did that _mean?_ He turned around and continued up to the stairs, reaching inside of his shirt to retrieve the key. Just before he reached the door, a voice hissed from below,

"Auf Wiedersehen, Tea Boy…"

There was something about that voice that sent chills cascading down Eduard's spine. He pushed the door open and tripped over his own feet in his haste to escape it, stumbling into the hall. He closed the door behind him with a slam, the key trembling in his hand as he locked it with a dull _clunk._ Eduard took long strides down the hallway, putting as much distance between him and that voice, that stench, the pure _insanity_ that lurked behind that door.

His conversation with Prussia had left Eduard frustrated and more confused than ever, but he was sure of one thing: He was _never_ going to willingly go into that dungeon again.

***chocolate lebkuchen - A chocolate German cookie with almonds, mixed fruit, and a light tart frosting. Man, I gotta try this stuff!**

**Translations:**

**Privyet, Russki – Hello, Russia**

**Pozhaluysta– You're welcome (meant sarcastically. General Winter likes to mess with Russia's head, lol)**

**Ar labu nakti/Head ööd/Labanakt – Good night**

**Ma armastan sind – I love you (meant as brotherly love, but you may interpret as you wish)**

**Wo bist du, Preußen? - Where are you, Prussia?**

**Es tut mir leid, aber mein Deutsch ist nicht sehr gut. Sprechen Sie Englisch? - I'm sorry, but my German isn't very good. Do you speak English?**

**Ich habe eine Speise - I have food**

**Deutsch Essen - German food**

**Auf Wiedersehen - Goodbye (can also be translated as 'see you later')**

**I guess this all may not make sense if you don't really know the history behind it. Long story short, at the end of WWII, Germany got TOTALLY beaten up by Russia and the Allies did nothing about it. Later many German officers were put on trial and put to death for crimes against humanity and other such offenses. Once again Germany was in HUGE debt to all of the Allies, and humiliated as the country who lost ANOTHER world war. As part of Germany's punishment, the Allies handed the East half to the Soviets, who built a huge wall right down the middle to make sure none of the East Germans could escape to the West. Anyone who tried to do this was shot.**

**The Kingdom of Prussia was dissolved after they lost WWI. The Allies thought that it was a dangerous country that focused too much on military. Now you can see why Prussia blames them for most of his problems.**

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for all the follows/favorites/reviews! You keep me inspired to keep writing! :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**Privet, people! :D **

**This chapter is much shorter; it's kind of a filler for the Awesome chapter that is coming up ;) Also we are back with Toris. Enjoy!**

_"Kesesese….I've been waiting for you, Estonia."_

_ "NO!" Toris screamed, banging on the door. "EDUARD!" _

_"Nice try, Uselessuania! He's mine now! You'll never see him again!"_

_"No…no, this can't be happening…Eduard! Please, can you hear me? Eduard! EDUARD!"_

Toris awoke with a gasp, sitting bold upright in his bed. His night shirt stuck to his back, his arms glistening with cold sweat. "Eduard," He breathed, throwing off his covers and staggering to his brother's bedside. Toris wrinkled his nose at the familiar stench of death that seemed to waft from beneath the covers. It was a smell straight from his nightmare, and only caused him to tremble in his panic as he grabbed Eduard by the shoulder.

"Eduard!" He whispered loudly. "Eduard, are you alright?"

The Estonian's reaction was electric. His eyes flew open and he sat up abruptly, his eyes focused and fists clenched. "What is it? Is Russia coming?" He asked, deadly serious.

"N-no," Toris flushed, embarrassed to have woken up his brother because of a silly nightmare. "Actually I was just wondering if you were okay. Did Prussia attack you?"

"Well…" Eduard reached up a hand to rub the underside of his neck. "Yes he did. But somehow I managed to talk him out of killing me…That lunatic has – "

"He tried to _kill_ you?!" Toris squealed. "Oh my god! What happened, didn't you bring a weapon with you, I _told_ you this was a bad idea! Do you need bandages or disinfectant, I have some under my bed, we can't have you getting infected – "

"_Toris!"_ Eduard hissed, sending his brother a glare. "Keep it down, Raivis is trying to sleep!"

"You almost got _killed!" _Toris ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "That's it; you are _never_ going back down there again. I want you to stay as far away from him as possible, understand? He's a murderer, you can't trust anything he says and it would be best if you don't talk to him at all."

Eduard rolled his eyes. "Toris, I'm not a child. "

Toris glared down at Eduard, putting his hands on his hips. "No, but you _are_ my little brother, and if he thinks he can get his filthy hands on you then he will have to do it over mydead body!" He could feel the rage boiling inside of him. How _dare_ Prussia try to kill Eduard – his brother, his friend… _He will regret it._ Toris vowed.

Eduard seemed to have suddenly grown indifferent to the world around him. He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes, falling back onto his pillow with a muffled thump. "That's nice, Toris. Head ööd."

"What?" Toris blinked. "What are you doing? You need a bath!"

"_No,"_ Eduard growled, "I need to _sleep._"

"But it's already morning!"

Eduard rolled his face into the pillow and moaned. "Five more minutes?"

Toris couldn't help but smile. "Of course." But soon the smile faded and Toris became lost in his own thoughts. So his nightmare had been true? What had Prussia done? He allowed his gaze to rest on the slumbering Estonian, trying to decipher if Eduard was in any kind of pain. His breathing seemed regular…

Suddenly Toris was struck with a horrific thought.

"Eduard."

Eduard groaned. "What…"

"Did you make sure to lock the door when you left?"

"Of course I did, I'm not an idiot. Now let me sleep."

Toris chewed his lip nervously. _He said he locked it. Eduard always tells the truth. So it should be locked…It SHOULD be locked…but what if…_ He cringed at the image of a crazed Prussia crawling through the halls, his bloody hands reaching out to snatch up Raivis from the dark...

"Šūdas," he mumbled. That was it. He was checking the door.

Not even bothering to throw on shoes or a uniform, Toris grabbed a pocket knife from his drawer and tiptoed to the doorway, leaning out and glancing down the halls for any sign of an escaped Prussia. Seeing nothing, he darted into the hallway and slunk up the stairs, all the while gripping the knife and pressing his back against the wall as if he were a soldier in combat. Reaching the top of the staircase, Toris poked his head around the corner and scanned every corner of the room for scuff marks, blood, footprints…

"Litva? What are you doing?"

Toris let out an involuntary yelp, his eyes darting to look in the face of a very exhausted-looking Russia. Ivan was sitting at the breakfast table, dressed in more layers of clothing than usual. The table top was cluttered with several empty bottles of vodka, a half-empty bottle clutched in one of his great gloved hands. Dark circles curved beneath his weary eyes, his hair a tangled mess.

"I - I – I – I – was…um. Nothing!" Toris straightened himself and hid the knife behind his back, trying to look as dignified as possible while still in his flannel pajamas. "Dobroye utro, Ivan!" He chirped, smiling sweetly.

Ivan just stared, which was quite frightening. He did not smile. His eyes did not light up with false happiness or mischief. Instead he looked at Toris with tired eyes, his expression completely unreadable. Toris fidgeted under the scrutiny, feeling extremely awkward in his pajamas. At last he could stand the silence no longer. "Would you like me to make you some tea?" He asked hopefully. Russia did not react, did not break eye contact. Toris could feel his heart begin to hammer in his chest. What was going on? Why was Russia up this early? Why was he _staring at him_ like this?

"M-master? Is something wrong?"

Russia's lips moved, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat, his voice deep and grainy. "It's Poland, isn't it?"

Toris frowned in confusion. "W-what?" Russia's question was so random that he had no idea what the nation was talking about.

"Poland." Russia repeated, his voice empty and flat. "Yesterday, when you asked for a meeting. It wasn't about food or work… You just wanted to see Poland again. Da?"

Toris didn't know what to say. If he said yes, that would be lying, and Russia would get angry. If he said no, he would be telling the truth, but Russia had obviously known there was an ulterior motive to asking for a meeting and would push to know what the real reason was. Russia could NOT, under any circumstances, find out about their plan involving Prussia. It was too risky.

"I – I don't know what you're talking about," Toris said, hating the way his voice wavered even though he was trying to put on a convincing smile. Russia's gaze grew dark, his fist tightening around the bottle of vodka.

"Do not lie to me."

Toris shifted under the harsh glare, but he continued to look his master in the eye. "I would never put Poland over my own people, Russia." He said softly, in a reassuring voice that would normally calm Ivan down.

This time, it had the opposite effect.

Ivan's dark stare turned into an angry scowl. "Bullshit," He growled, abruptly standing up with a loud scrape of his chair. Toris felt his stomach sink to his toes as Ivan marched towards him, violet eyes flaming with irritation. In a few short strides Ivan was towering over him, the scent of vodka as strong as ever. "Why do you keep _lying?"_ He demanded, grabbing Toris by the collar of his nightshirt. "Do you think I am stupid? Do you think I cannot tell when you are trying to trick me?"

"N-no!" Toris pleaded. "I wouldn't dream of thinking such a thing!"

"Then _why,"_ Ivan growled, lifting Toris off of his feet by his collar, "…Don't you trust me enough to tell me the _truth!"_ He shook his huge fist, rattling Toris as if he were a rag doll. His eyes were blazing; Toris could tell that he was seconds away from violence.

"Y-you're right! It's Poland!" Toris cried. Suddenly Ivan became utterly still, suspended in time as he looked into Toris's eyes. The silence that surrounded them was deafening. "It's Poland…" Toris repeated softly. The fire died in Ivan's eyes, leaving them empty and broken. He stared at Toris a moment, before slowly setting him back on his feet. His shoulders sagged; his gaze fell to the floor. Toris noticed for the first time how old Ivan appeared, with his baggy eyes and disheveled hair.

"I'm sorry," Toris whispered.

Ivan's eyebrows scrunched together in what looked like pain. "You are in love with someone else. No matter what I do, I only end up pushing you farther and farther away." He let out a long, deep sigh, his great chest rising and falling again. "It doesn't matter. Winter will be very harsh this year. A meeting is necessary to discuss this problem, da?" Ivan lifted his gaze, his face blank but eyes filled with sorrow. "You will see Poland then."

Toris's eyes widened. "What? You mean – "

"Da, I have called Stalin already. We will not know a date until we contact the other Satellite States, but I'm sure it will be within the next few weeks."

Toris couldn't believe his ears. Russia already called his boss? Even when he knew Toris was trying to trick him into a meeting? "Ivan, I – Thank you!" Toris couldn't help but smile. He did it! The plan was going to work!

Russia seemed to be watching Toris's reaction with interest. At last his mouth curved into a slight smile – not a fake one, but a real smile. "It is my job, da?" He reached out with a large gloved hand to ruffle Toris's hair. "I am glad you are happy, Litva."

Toris blushed and reached up to push Ivan's hands away, but as he did so something was plucked from his fingers.

The knife. _O šūdas._

"Toris, what is this?" Ivan frowned, getting a close look at the small pocket knife in his hand.

"I, uhm….I found it and thought it needed sharpening." Toris's cheeks burned; he knew that was a terrible lie.

"Give me your hand."

"W-wha – "

"Your hand, Litva."

Toris gulped, reluctantly holding out his hand to Russia. Ivan carefully took it, gently folding his fingers around Toris's wrist. With a sharp flick of the knife, Ivan cut a crimson line across Toris's palm. Toris yelped, pain searing in his hand as bright red liquid dripped onto the floor.

"It does not need sharpening." Ivan pointed out, first eyeing the blood on the knife and then staring at Toris again. "What were you doing, sneaking around the house with a sharpened pocket knife, I wonder?"

"I – I needed to cut some fruit – Ah!" Another slit had been cut so that there was a bright red "X" on Toris's hand. Russia's eyes were swirling with insanity and that creepy smile returned. "Let's play a game, da? Every time you lie to me, I get to draw blood." His voice had risen a few octaves, back to that childish tone. "This one is for lying about Poland…" Toris hissed as more pain shot up his arm. Russia's grip was getting stronger. "And this one is for tricking me…" Russia pressed the tip of the knife into the crook of Toris's elbow and carefully slid it downwards so that it drew a crimson line down the middle of his forearm. Toris gritted his teeth, used to much more pain than this and preparing himself for more. Russia smiled sweetly, his eyes glittering as he placed the point of the knife directly beneath Toris's neck. Toris held his breath.

"…And this one will be if you lie to me now. Here is my question, Litva. Answer carefully." The smile vanished and Ivan's eyes burned. "Were you planning on using this knife on me?"

"No."

Ivan grinned evilly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Russia. I am telling the truth."

Ivan looked at Toris for a long time before removing the knife from his neck. He folded it, not even bothering to clean off the blood, and slipped it into his coat pocket. "Good!" Russia smiled. "Now Litva, the game has started and will not end until I say so. If I catch you lying then the same rule applies. Eto panyatno?"

"Yes," Toris answered, a pit of dread forming in his gut.

"I think I will enjoy this game very much." Russia mused, eyeing his handiwork. After a moment of silence, he suddenly began to laugh. Toris squirmed, unsure of what to make of the outburst.

"Um…Master, what's so funny?"

"Kolkolkol…it's just that you're still in your night clothes, Litva. I think it's cute."

Toris blushed madly and asked if he could return to the bedroom to get dressed. Once he was below the stairs and out of Russia's sight, he looked down at the arm that was still oozing crimson.

_Let's play a game, da? Every time you lie to me, I get to draw blood._

Toris shuddered. He was terrible at telling lies, but if he was going to stick to Eduard's plan, there were many more to come… He was so enveloped in his thoughts that he didn't see the small person who had been hiding in the hallway.

"Oof!" He ran straight into someone, who let out a squeak of surprise. " I – I'm sorry!" He apologized, turning around to see a pair of huge violet eyes blinking up at him.

"T-Toris?" Raivis was shaking and tears began to trail down his cheeks. "Who tried to kill Eduard? And why are you bleeding again?"

**Translations:**

Eto panyatno? - Understand?

**Oh no, Raivis, you were supposed to be asleep! D: Poor kid... My characters must hate me. I'M SORRY, GUYS YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU.**

***All Baltics***

**"No, you don't!"**

**:P**

**Reviews are AWESOME! **


	12. Chapter 12

**I just wanted you to know that I wrote the last half of this while listening to ****The Last of the Mohicans**** soundtrack and I feel GREAT. **

**Anyways.**

**I will warn you that this chapter contains a tiny little history lesson. -gasp- Oh no, not education! ;) Remember it, though, because it will pop up later. Muahaha...**

The silence that hung over them was thick and awkward. Toris's mind raced to try and come up with some way around this, but no answer came to him. Toris chose to do what he does best – he knelt down to that he was eye-to-eye with his little brother, smiling gently and reaching out to dry Raivis's tears.

"Eduard is fine. And this blood is nothing, really. Everything is fine, Raivis."

"No, it's not!" Raivis pushed Toris's hands away. "You said someone tried to _kill_ Eduard, I heard you! You were in hysterics, Toris! You never do that unless something really_ really_ bad is happening."

Toris's smile faltered. What was he supposed to do? As much as he loved Raivis, he knew the Latvian couldn't keep a secret to save his life. One blab about the plan and all of this would have been for nothing. "Raivis…" Toris's voice was soft and his eyes apologetic. He was smiling sweetly, like a mother would. "I would love to tell you what's going on here, but… I can't."

Raivis seemed to become frustrated. "Why not? Is this part of Eduard's plan? To get _killed_?"

"Ne, Raivis, that's not it – "

"Then what _is_ it?!" Raivis nearly shouted. "I have a right to know!"

Toris sighed, averting his eyes to the floor. He didn't know what to say. At last Raivis broke the silence, his voice sounding hurt. "I know why you won't tell me. You guys think I can't keep a secret."

Toris looked up with wide eyes. "Ne, Raivis, it's not like that – "

"Yes it is." Raivis glowered from underneath his honey-colored bangs. "You guys think I'm still a kid. You seem to keep forgetting that I'm about a _thousand_ years old."

Toris's mouth fell open. "I – we – Th-that's not true at all!" Raivis's glare grew darker. Toris was shocked at the similarity between his eyes and Russia's. They were almost exactly the same color, and now that Raivis's were swirling with rage they held a striking resemblance.

"Yes it _is_. You treat me like a little kid, fawning over me and trying to protect me and shit. Well I'm sick and tired of it. I can keep a secret just as well as anyone, and if you two think you can go around making plans without me then you can count me out of this family!"

Toris stared at his little brother in disbelief. Guilt flooded over him – he and Eduard had only been trying to protect Raivis – they had no idea he was so sensitive about it. Suddenly the fire in the Latvian's eyes flickered out and died, leaving him just as shocked as Toris was. "I – I – I'm sorry – " He stuttered. His violet eyes filled with tears. "Es esmu tik žēl, Toris, I – I didn't mean…" Raivis sank to the floor, hugging his knees tight and hiding his face as he cried softly.

Toris felt his heart break a little at the sight of his little brother like this. He crouched down to sit by Raivis on the floor. "I would put an arm around you, but you're too old for that, taip?"

Raivis let out a long shuddery sigh. "I just… I'm scared." He whispered into his knees.

"About what?" Toris asked gently.

"Everything," Raivis's voice cracked. He lifted his head to stare blankly at the wall. "I still don't know what Russia did to me. And now someone is trying to kill Eduard, and you won't tell me what's going on." He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "It's scary when you guys start keeping secrets from me. I feel like something really bad is going to happen, and I won't be ready for it."

"Nothing bad is going to happen," Toris reassured, his voice soft and soothing.

"Yes it is. Something bad _always _happens."

Toris allowed his gaze to rest on his little brother. It was sad, how Raivis had spent so much of his life under Russia's control. The boy had very few happy memories to speak of – his life was dictated by a constant fear of what his master would do next. It was true; Raivis was a very old nation. But such a long time under oppression had stunted his growth, his courage, his confidence. Toris sighed, leaning against the wall to stare up at the ceiling. Surely there was something he could to do help…After a few moments he was struck with an idea.

"I'll tell you what. If you can keep a secret for an entire day, then we will tell you exactly what is going on. Deal?"

Raivis made a face. "You still don't trust me."

"Sorry," Toris smiled apologetically. "We just can't take any chances. I promise that if you pass this test we will make sure to tell you everything."

Raivis mumbled something under his breath in Latvian that didn't sound very polite. After a few moments of consideration, he looked up at Toris with determined eyes and held out his hand. "Deal." Toris took the hand and shook, sealing his promise. Raivis wasted no time in asking, "Alright, so what's the secret?"

Toris leaned back and thought for a moment. _A secret, a secret…_ There were so many to choose from. Toris had a talent for listening, and the result was that most nations trusted him with inside information. It fascinated him, how suddenly Belarus would be confessing her jealousy of her sister, or how America admitted to being lonely. He seemed to have a way with people – perhaps it was his soft voice, or the way he rarely judged anyone. But Toris knew more – _much _more – about the nations than most would think.

_A secret…What is a secret…_

"Ah!" He smiled. "I've got one." Toris took a quick glance down the halls to make sure nobody was listening, then he leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do you remember the Seven Years' War?"

Raivis's eyes widened. "Of course. That was when you and Poland broke up, right? I remember because we had to move into Russia's house."

"Yes." Toris smiled weakly. Painful memories of the Commonwealth's collapse began to seep into his mind, but he quickly pushed them away. This was no time for a flashback. "And who was the ruler of Russia at the time?"

"Catherine the Great." Raivis answered immediately. "I liked her; she wasn't as scary as the Tsars."

Toris raised an eyebrow. "Did you know that she arranged the murder of her own husband?"

Raivis gasped. "_What?"_

"Peter the Third. He was born in a German state; he barely even spoke Russian."

"I bet Russia didn't like him."

Toris shook his head. "Ne, the people hated him. He only ruled for six months before he was murdered."

"That's a silly reason to murder your husband…" Raivis muttered.

"Ah, but this is where it gets interesting. Peter the Third was so enthralled with his German heritage that he was a great admirer of Frederick the Great – do you remember who he is?" Toris felt his tongue burn at the mention of that man's name. Once again the memories threatened to flood in, but he closed his eyes and ignored them.

"Yeah, he was Prussia's boss." Raivis answered, oblivious to Toris's internal struggle. "I think they called him Old Fritz, right?"

Toris clenched a fist, a reaction that Raivis didn't notice. He opened his eyes and smiled. "Right. Well Russia had been at war with Prussia for five years, fighting over borders. But the moment Peter the Third became Tsar, he declared peace with the Prussians and gave them _all of their land back_."

"Ooh." Raivis sucked in a breath. "I bet Russia didn't like that. That's kind of embarrassing, isn't it?"

"It was _very_ embarrassing. And it got even worse: Peter also admired Frederick's battle strategies, and so he began to apply the same style of military action to the Russian troops. Some of them even had to wear the Prussian _uniform_."

"Ak, Dievs!" Raivis gasped. "Did Russia have to wear one?"

Suddenly Toris was struck with the ridiculous image of Ivan marching around in tight white trousers stuffed into shiny black boots, with a Prussian blue and red army coat trailing behind him, a black tri-cornered hat pushed over his bangs. To make things even worse, in his imagination Ivan was sporting a bushy mustache that the Germans were so famous for. Toris hid his grin behind a hand, chuckling. "I don't think so. But did you know that Peter once executed a _rat _for attacking his toy soldiers?"

At this Raivis laughed. "You're not serious, are you?"

"It's true!" Toris took on a serious tone of voice as he recited in deep accented Russian, "This rat is hereby deemed guilty of brutally murdering these toy soldiers made from starch. This capital offense is punishable by… DEATH!" At the word "death" he reached over and snatched Raivis's shoulders in an attempt to scare him, causing the boy to burst into laughter. "B-banishment!" Raivis giggled. "Banishment to the land of cats!"

"You mean Greece?" Toris asked. There was a brief moment of silence as they looked at each other, then they both doubled over in laughter. It felt amazing to laugh like this - Toris could hardly remember the last time he had enjoyed a good joke. The same must have been true for Raivis because it was a good ten minutes before they were able to breathe normally.

"That's not really a secret, you know." Raivis pointed out, still smiling. Toris grinned back.

"I know. But I'll bet you really want to ask Russia about that uniform now, don't you?"

Raivis's eyes widened in revelation. "Ak dievs, jā! But I can't, right?"

Toris shook his head. "Not a word."

"Nolādēt," Raivis whispered, biting his lip. Toris watched with interest, realizing he had chosen the perfect test. The embarrassment of Peter the Third was _exactly_ the kind of thing that Raivis liked to ask Russia about – the kind of thing that, when Ivan was in a bad mood, could end up in disaster. _And the same is true for our plans. _If Raivis could last the day without letting the story slip, then Toris and Eduard could definitely trust him with their secret.

"Sėkmės, Raivis," Toris smiled, giving his brother a pat on the back. He stood up, remembering that he was still in his pajamas and needed to change before Russia –

_Oh shit. _

"Šūdas!"

Raivis looked up, concerned. "What is it?"

"I have to – Today is – Oh NO…" Toris felt pure panic take over him. Why didn't he think of it before? He was such an _idiot!_

"Toris, what's wrong? What is today?"

But Toris wasn't listening. He turned on his heel and sprinted down the hallway into their room. If Russia was having a meeting, that meant that Russia would take Prussia out of the dungeon. It also meant that Russia would need the key.

That key happened to be hanging around Eduard's neck.

If he didn't get that key back to Russia in time… He didn't dare finish that thought.

Toris threw open the bedroom door with so much force that it banged loudly against the wall. "Eduard!" He shouted, his voice filled with the panic that raged through his veins. He didn't even wait for a response, striding over to the Estonian's bedside and violently shaking his shoulder. "Eduard, wake _up, _you idiot!"

"Who are _you_ calling an idiot?" Eduard fumed, slapping Toris's hand away. "Mu jumal, can't I get at least _ten minutes_ of sleep? Go wake up someone else!"

"Ne!" Toris dropped his voice to a whisper, aware that Raivis was listening from the hallway. "Listen, Eduard, I need the key. RIGHT NOW."

Eduard frowned in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Russia just told me that there will be a Soviet meeting in two weeks and that means that he is going to _get Prussia out of the dungeon_ and if he has the wrong key then we are screwed. I _need_ that key, Eduard, right fucking _now."_

Eduard's eyes widened and he reached up to remove the rope from his neck, dropping the brass key into Toris's trembling hands. "Ačiū," Toris breathed, practically sprinting out of the room and ignoring Eduard's call of, "Wait. There are _two?"_

Raivis flattened himself against the wall to avoid another collision. "Toris, what's going on?" He called, but Toris did not answer.

_Oh my god oh my god oh my god…_

His breath came in ragged gasps as he ran, his bare feet and flannel night clothes not making a sound as he neared Russia's room. Everything – _everything_ that he and Eduard had been working so hard to set up these past three days – completely hinged on his ability to return the key in time. If Russsia was already trying to open the dungeon or if he got caught switching them back, Toris knew that weeks of excrutiating pain and a profuse amount of blood loss was awaiting him.

He had a hunch that Russia would be taking a shower, but he couldn't be sure. Toris nearly fainted in relief when he heard the spray of water coming from the master bathroom. _Oh, thank god!_ He pressed his ear against the door, listening intently for any rummaging of clothes or footsteps. Hearing nothing, he slowly turned the door handle, opening the door just enough to throw a quick glance around the room. Again he sighed with relief – it was empty. Toris inched the door wider, stepping lightly into the bedroom. His eyes scoured every piece of furniture, every hook on the wall…then he saw it. Russia had laid it down on the dresser closest to the bathroom door: A key, identical to the one clutched in Toris's hand. It was a decoy, and although it looked and weighed exactly the same as the real key, it would not work on the dungeon door.

Toris took a deep breath and tiptoed to the dresser, lifting the decoy up by the old rope and frantically untying the knot. His hands were shaking horribly, it was rather difficult… Toris bit his tongue to keep from cursing. He had done this while in bed with Russia, why couldn't he do it _now!?_ At last the knot was undone and the decoy fell to the floor with a soft thump. It was at this exact moment that the spray of shower water came to a halt. Beads of sweat trickled down Toris's neck – it was only a matter of seconds before Russia came back into the bedroom, and now he would be able to hear. Toris bent down and snatched up the decoy, clenching it between his teeth as he untied the knot of the second rope. He could hear the shift of fabric from the bathroom – Russia was getting dressed.

_Come on!_

He had intended to catch the key, but he was shaking so much that it fell out of his hands. Toris let out a gasp, reaching out and snatching it mid-air. The movement from the bathroom paused. _Shit._ Had Russia heard him? Toris didn't care; he looped the real key back onto the old rope and began tying the knot. The sound of footsteps nearing the bathroom door stopped him short. Toris let the unfinished knot fall back onto the dresser, speed-walking as silently as possible out of the room and shutting the door. He was so afraid of making too much noise that he didn't close it all the way, and he couldn't risk Russia hearing his footsteps if he ran. Toris looked around frantically for a place to hide but his only option was the next hallway corner. From inside the bedroom he could hear the bathroom door being opened. Panic surged in him again, he held his breath and tiptoed down the hallway, rounding the corner just as the bedroom door opened.

There was a long excruciating silence. Toris pressed his back against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest. His oxygen supply was running out… It seemed an eternity before the bedroom door closed with a click. Toris listened a few more moments for any footsteps.

Silence.

Toris slowly let out his air, sucking back in the much-needed oxygen.

That was WAY too close.

Toris knelt onto the floor, running his hands along the baseboard until his fingers brushed over a small crack in the woodwork. Using the key for leverage, he opened a four-inch panel that revealed a small compartment, just the right size for the decoy to fit. He slowly slid it in, making sure it was in the exact position he had found it. A sly smile flickered across Toris's lips as he closed the compartment, remembering the day Russia had showed this to him. Ivan had said that this was the real key, but Toris knew better than to believe that.

_I have always loved that quote China taught me…_ Toris thought to himself as he calmly walked back to his room.

_One should keep his friends close, but his enemies closer. _

**Translations:**

**Es esmu tik žēl - I'm so sorry**

**taip - yes**

**Ak, Dievs! - Oh my god!**

**Nolādēt - Dangit**

**Sėkmės - Good luck**

**Mu jumal - My god**

**Ačiū - Thank you (Toris is so polite, lol)**

**Sorry for so many translations - Latvian and Lithuanian are on the same branch of the language tree, so I imagine them using their native tongues more around each other. Okay, so I lied about this chapter being 'Awesome', if ya know what I mean... But the next one will be! I promise! :) Aaand...Reviews just make my day as happy and gold and warm and fuzzy as... beer. Haha. ;)**


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